


Quiznak Actually

by FeyduBois



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, Angst, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Hunkshipsit, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Primary Big Bang, Romantic Comedy, Sickfic, Swearing, Tropes, URST, all the rom-com tropes, multi-chapter, pottymouth!Pidge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:00:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9808361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeyduBois/pseuds/FeyduBois
Summary: Hunk ships Klance so hard. Too bad those two idiots are blind as to how crazy in love they are with each other. Hunk decides he’s going to get them together by any means possible. There will be misunderstandings, awful dad-jokes, 60s cable, and space flu for all.This was written for the Primary Paladin Big Bang 2017 and there is artwork inside!





	1. Brokeback Balmera

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beta AMNWolfDog!  
> You can expect artwork from: Summer (tumblr: summersnowleopard), Zell (tumblr: pumpkinklance), and Marissa (tumblr: thesabertoothwalrus)
> 
> KLANCE is the major pairing but SHALLURA is secondary and Hunk is a prominent character as he attempts to play Emma Woodhouse.
> 
> There is a minimal amount of Spanish thrown in as curse words or idioms, translations will be provided at the end of each chapter.
> 
> Here are the Altean time equivalents, they're approximate but functional:  
> Tick(s) — Second(s)  
> Dobosh(es) — Minute(s)  
> Varga(s) — Hour(s)  
> Quintant(s) — Day(s)  
> Decafeeb(s) — Years(s)
> 
> WARNINGS: swearing, canon-typical violence, mild gore, vomiting (later chapters), nudity but nothing sexually explicit, accidental drug use

* * *

Hunk was a hopeless romantic. 

He always had been and he had long ago resolved to never be ashamed of it. Having a love of rom-coms had gotten him many movie-dates, and also many platonic female friends whom he considered among his best friends. Frankly, he would rather a good old fashioned love story over yet another  _ Grand Theft Auto _ sequel. What could he say? He loved to see people finding love. It frustrated him when people were in love but could not, through their own bloated egos, see it.

Lance and Keith frustrated him to no end.

The two idiots were clearly in it deep, yet they would not admit it to themselves, much less to each other; however, for those around them, the rest of the Voltron team, it was obvious. The unresolved sexual tension was killing them. There were days when Hunk wanted to pound his head against a wall, like training that day which had mostly consisted of the two of them shouting at each other how best to make their way through the hellish training course Allura had devised for them that week. Lance insisted on speed and precision, Keith insisted on decisiveness and instinct, but no one else seemed to know what they were talking about, they both seemed to be talking about the same thing, and the course was fucking impossible either way. Hunk was exhausted. He had no clue how Pidge still had the alertness to be coding away, or doing whatever the she did on her computer, but Hunk suspected that the furious typing was how she relieved stress. He sat on the floor in front of the couch where she was sitting cross-legged, abusing the keyboard, the laptop probably burning her thighs.

“I don’t get it.” Hunk sighed, “They’re clearly in love.”

“Who?” Pidge asked.

“Lance and Keith.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, I guess.”

“But put the two of them together and it’s fire and ice.”

“Steam?”

“Red and blue.”

“Purple?”

“Uh. No. I mean, yes? But for real,” Hunk tilted his head back onto the couch, trying to catch Pidge’s eyes behind the flashing lenses of her specs, “It bothers me.”

“Why?” Pidge looked at him for a moment, “They’ll figure it out eventually.”

“They’re in love but they pretend that they hate each other.”

Pidge shrugged, returning to her keyboard, “They’re young, we all are. I know jack-shit about love, and they’re teenaged boys, they’re like, inherently stupid about this crap. No offence to you Hunk, I’m sure you’re quite knowledgeable, having grown up with two moms and being the sensitive person that you are.”

“That and I’ve seen enough romances to recognize their feelings.”

“Movies aren’t real life.”

“Haven’t you seen  _ Pride & Prejudice _ ?  _ The Notebook _ ?  _ PS: I Love You _ ? They’re so human it hurts,” Hunk said.

“I think I saw a couple of those with my mom on ‘girls night’ but I didn’t pay much attention. I mostly did those because she wanted to… and the ice-cream. Like, all the ice-cream I could eat, straight out of the box.”

“Did you watch them?”

“I guess? She mostly cried. I think it was cathartic for her.” Pidge paused, going somewhere a touch deeper as she sometimes did around Hunk, “After dad and Matt went missing she did nothing but lay on the couch and watch  _ Dirty Dancing _ for a week straight. I think she lived off red wine and Triscuits.”

“I want to hang with your mom.”

“Yeah, you would get along, but what do you need a third mom for?”

Hunk shrugged, “Two’s great, three could be better.”

“Three times the nagging to clean my room? No thanks.” Pidge affectionately poked Hunk with a socked toe, “If you’re such a love expert why don’t you help Keith and Lance along. You know, just give them a little nudge?”

“Huh,” Hunk sat up straight, “I think I will. I mean, I’ve seen all the movies, read all the books, I know how love works better than either of them.”

“You do,” Pidge agreed.

“I’m gonna do it!”

“You go do it.”

“They’re gonna admit their love,” Hunk said.

“That’s right.”

“How am I gonna do it?”

Pidge shrugged, “Lock them in the airlock together until they work it out?”

“Pidge, no.” 

“Well, you’re the love expert. You work it out.”

* * *

The plan was as follows: pack a romantic picnic lunch, send Keith and Lance on a food run to retrieve fresh fruits with said picnic on the most romantic planet there was, and watch the magic unfold. The picnic lunch was the easy part, and he knew precisely the right planet, a tropical paradise, but for the actual enactment Hunk had to enlist Shiro’s help.

“Hey Shiro,” Hunk said.

“Hmm?” Shiro looked up from the data printouts he was studying, a task so mind-numbingly boring Hunk was surprised Shiro was awake.

“I was wondering if we could stop at that planet with the fruit that’s kind of like mangoes again.”

“Hmm… Janro was it?” Shiro asked, dropping the printouts on the table, apparently glad to be rid of them. 

“I think that was the name. Lance said it reminded him of home, we played on the beach? And man, there were so many kinds of fruit, there were even some that tasted nothing like Earth fruits that were good too, they kept for a good long while.”

“Alright,” said Shiro, “I think we’ll be passing near there shortly. I’ll check with Allura but that shouldn’t be a problem, unless she complains about the break in training.”

“I think we deserve a break.”

“You do,” Shiro agreed, “I’ll remind her that we need to be prepared for aquatic environments as well, Pidge isn’t a strong swimmer, and Coran said those fruits were really nutritious. I’ll tell her we should stock up.”

“Thank you Shiro.”

* * *

Within an Altean week, eight vargas, they were landing on Janro. Hunk had packed three picnic lunches so that they could go in teams to cover more ground in their fruit collecting expedition, since they were best picked in the morning, and so that Lance and Keith would be together. Shiro and Allura made a second team, and Hunk and Pidge the last. Coran held down camp in front of the Castleship on the beach, lounging in the sun near the water in his favoured swim wear, a blue and white striped tank top and some alarmingly tight dark blue shorts.

“Allura, Shiro, you two can take the woods behind the ship,” Hunk suggested, “Keith, Lance, how about if you two go up to that cliff we went to last time? Pidge and I will stay along the beach here and try collect some of the low-growing berries that Coran recommended.”

“They make a very invigorating drink,” Coran said, “Something like what Pidge described as ‘coffee’ on Earth.”

“Sounds good,” Allura nodded. She wore a sort of Altean sundress and looked as lovely as ever, hair held back in a long braid, topped with an oversized hat, while the other Paladins had stripped down to the lightest clothing they could comfortably get away with to deal with the tropical heat.

“Got it,” said Lance, “Let’s go Mullet.”

Hunk set off along the beach, Pidge trailing behind, “The cliff? Aren’t you afraid they’ll jump off it?”

“It was safe last time we did it, remember? And that’s the most beautiful spot I’ve seen so far in space. They’re sure to bond.”

“Yeah, but I think the tide’s out right now.”

“Hm…” Hunk gazed across the expanse of pink sandy beach, “Maybe.”

It was true that this place was beautiful, hell, the whole planet was a tropical paradise, temperate and mild, though not as jungle-like as some because of the lower humidity and high-salt content in the massive ocean. The cliff wasn’t terribly high but it overlooked much of a valley and a deep pool of salt water was right beneath it, making it ideal for jumping. The last time they’d been there they’d even attached a rope ladder, leaving it behind, so that they could take turns diving off and climbing back up again. The air was warm, and perfect for swimming at around 25 degrees celsius, scented heavily with local flowers, golden yellow magnolia-like ones hanging from willow-like trees in clusters, bushes of bright pink ones shaped like giant peonies, and tiny little teal and white ones growing in a carpet all over the rocks, releasing a vanilla-like smell when they were walked upon.

Hunk and Pidge began their berry-picking expedition, all the while Hunk wondered what was going on with Keith and Lance.

* * *

“Why did Hunk send us up the mountain?” Lance griped.

“Are you upset to be with me?” Keith asked.

“It’s the climb, but your presence doesn’t make it much better.”

“If we weren’t here we’d be training so enjoy it, it’s just a walk.”

“Yeah, but it’s hot.”

“Then take your shirt off.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

_ What was that supposed to mean? _ Keith thought. He shrugged, “I’m about ready to do the same.” He paused and set down the backpack he carried, stripping off his t-shirt (his trademark jacket and gloves had been left on ship). He then cracked open a pouch of water and began to drink. 

Lance watched his throat as he swallowed, droplets of sweat dripping down his neck.  _ Fuck!  _ Why did Keith have to do this to him, every goddamn time? Lance begrudgingly stripped off his own shirt and shoved it into their bag, accepting the half pouch of water from Keith to finish it off. Team Voltron had long ago stopped worrying about sharing drinks. He felt slightly self-conscious shirtless next to Keith, sure he was toned, but not at all like Keith whose abdominal muscles were sharply defined like something out of a sports magazine. He looked strong, ripped even, next to Lance’s awkward, wiry, too-long arms and slender waist. Keith then lifted his hair off his shoulders and bound it up behind his head, and  _ holy shit, was that a man bun?  _ It was… _ unexpectedly cute _ , Lance decided.

“Let’s keep going,” Keith smiled at Lance, hoisting the pack up easily to his shoulders and setting out again on the trail at a brisk pace.

From this vantage, when Lance wasn’t struggling to pull himself up rocks, he had a great view of Keith’s ass and even that looked toned. Absently he wondered how many squats it took to get an ass like that, or if it was a blessing of genetics.

Once at the top they began picking the fruit in silence. That lasted all of five minutes before Lance’s mouth began moving and inane words began to flow. He talked about mangoes and the local fruit trees he raided as a child, how fresh mangoes were totally different from American supermarket ones, same with avocados, which were eaten brown and soft at home and still tasted great, and all of the wonderful dishes his  _ mamá _ used to make, most of which Keith had never even heard of because they weren’t said in English. Honestly, Keith started tuning him out.

“So, what’s yours?” asked Lance.

“Huh?”

“What’s your favourite fruit?” Lance repeated.

“Oh. I don’t know, oranges I guess.”

“Oranges?” Lance asked, “That’s a weird choice, I find them too acidic, but I guess there are good sweet ones sometimes too. Oh, like those little mandarin oranges you can get around Christmas. You ever have those?”

“Yeah.”

“The skin is so thin it peels away like nothing. My sister, Sofía, called them baby oranges and for the longest time we had her convinced that if you let them sit for awhile they would grow into real oranges. So she kept, like, five of them hidden in a box under her bed for almost a year before  _ mamá _ noticed the smell and cleaned them out and oh boy, that was funny. Sofía did it, but it was us older kids who got in trouble for telling her stories.”

Keith was just nodding.

“We used to go picking mangoes too, it was a lot like this, in the early morning before the sun got too hot. We would have contests to see who could fill our baskets first.” Lance glanced over at the bag Keith carried for the fruit he was gathering. He judged it was at nearly the same level as his, “Hey Keith.”

“Mm?” Keith had tuned him out completely again.

“I challenge you.”

“To what?”

“Man, is the sun getting to you? I challenge you to see who can fill our fruit bags fastest.”

“Oh. Sure,” Keith began to pick quicker now, completely focused. Lance’s hands worked overtime, deftly plucking the low-hanging fruit. They worked in silence for about an hour before Lance crowed in victory.

“I WIN!” he hoisted up the full bag. Keith’s was nearly as full, although not quite.

“You had a head start,” Keith grumbled. He set down the heavy bag to stretch out his back and sample one of the fruits he had collected, peeling it with a random knife Lance hadn’t even seen him pull out. He sliced off a piece of the juicy red fruit and put it into his mouth, and then sliced off a second piece and held it out to Lance. Lance took it with his nails, careful not to drop the slippery fruit, and put it in his mouth, savouring the sweet, wet deliciousness. It was very similar to mango, although the colour was wrong, the pit was significantly smaller, and the fruit itself was smaller and rounder. 

The fruit teased at their building hunger and Keith gestured to the top of the cliff overlooking at the water, “Let’s go up there for lunch?”

Lance looked up, “Race you to the top?”

“We can leave our harvest here and get the bags on the way down,” Keith reasoned.

“Good idea. Okay, three, two… one: GO!”

Lance took off, Keith took off, and they were soon racing and shoving their way to the top of the cliff. At first Lance’s head start and long stride had him in the lead, but apparently Keith’s greater athleticism also included endurance. He got to the top and flopped down on his back, bare chest heaving. Lance threw himself down next to Keith on his front, the top of the cliff coated in a soft pink moss. Once they could both breathe more easily they sat up.

“You should train more,” Keith said, pulling out a water pouch and downing half of it in one go.

“Yeah, at least I have a life outside the training room,” Lance muttered.

“Like what? Getting shot down by alien women?”

“Shut up mullet.”

“Make me.”

Lance flipped over and pinned Keith to the moss, “Yeah?”

“Please,” Keith groaned, easily flinging Lance over again onto his back, straddling him. He stared down into Lance’s eyes coldly. The sun behind Keith’s head was blinding and Lance was too startled at being suddenly flung onto his back to fight. It was a long moment before Keith caught on to just how suggestive their position was. He blushed lightly, pulled himself off Lance, and promptly started rifling through the lunch bag while Lance, dazed, lifted himself up.

“Here’s your… burrito?” Keith said, handing Lance the food Hunk had prepared.

“This is far from a burrito,” Lance said, taking the wrap, although really it was close in appearance if not in taste. Hunk had struggled forever trying to figure out how to make easy-to-transport food. Apparently the leaves of some plants they had come upon were thick, fairly tasty, and excellent for wrapping up sandwich like-toppings.

Keith bit into his and shrugged, talking through his food, “Still tastes good.”

“Mhmm,” Lance agreed.

They ate in silence. If food gathering missions like this meant that they got to eat like they did—and got to spend time on beautiful planets like this one—then so be it. Gathering missions were often also diplomatic ones, and vice-versa, so they also were getting to know the galaxy at the same time as taking care of practical matters. This wasn’t a bad place for a picnic lunch either. 

Spread across them the water, an ocean of sorts, glimmered in the bright light of the planet’s main sun. The secondary sun, a cool red coloured one, was just rising in the far horizon to their right (they’d long ago given up assigning cardinal directions while on other planets) and the water began to take on a violet tone. It was clear and refreshing looking. Once Lance had finished eating he scouted around until he found where they had tied a simple rope ladder the last time they had visited.

“Hey Keith, ladder’s still here.”

Keith shoved the wrappings of their lunch into the bag and stood up, walking over to where Lance was. Sure enough the rope ladder, running down the side of the cliff, was still tied true between a pair of sturdy trees. “We could climb down for a swim,” he suggested.

A grin spread across Lance’s face, “Or we could just jump like we did last time.”

“We only jumped last time after Allura climbed down and made sure it was deep enough,” Keith said, “We don’t know if it’s safe.”

“We were only here, what, six weeks ago?” Lance said, “I’m sure it’s fine.”

Keith frowned.

“What, are you chicken?”

Those were fighting words. “Hell no.”

“Then let’s go for a swim,” Lance stood up and began kicking off his sneakers and peeling away his sweaty socks.

“Yes,” Keith glanced at Lance, following his lead on this, “let’s.” 

Keith forgot sometimes that bonding rituals among teenaged boys were strange; they tended to involve risk-to-body, feats of bravery and/or stupidity, and attempts to impress each other thinly disguised as attempts to impress girls. Keith stripped away his own shoes, socks, and pants. There weren’t any women here, just who was Lance trying to impress by jumping off that cliff? Maybe he actually enjoyed this kind of thing?

Lance and Keith stood in their skivvies at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the water below. Keith thought it looked a lot further down than it did last time they dove here, but fear tended to do such things with the mind. The water was appealing, it looked cool and fresh, but last time there had not been the red-violet glint of the planet’s secondary sun, and then it had been with the others, with Shiro going first, and this was making him a touch nervous. Lance made him nervous, with that smile that he didn’t know was charming, unlike his actually-trying-to-be-charming smile, which was just weird and creepy.

Lance raised an eyebrow at him as he walked to the cliff edge, not taking his eyes off Keith, as if he had already mentally calculated how many steps exactly it would take to get to the edge and was not worried about accidentally stepping off. Keith, somewhat more carefully, came up to the very edge, where the pink moss gave way to blue-grey stone and he could feel the water beneath sucking downwards. The tide was going out, he could tell by the waves, surely Lance could tell to? Or was Lance’s gaze too intent on Keith to notice?

They were at the edge of the cliff looking down, sunlight dazzling, when Lance said “Three,”

“Two,” Keith smiled back him. Rivalry was one thing; he didn’t know what  _ this _ was. Camaraderie maybe?

“ONE!” Lance shouted and jumped into the water.

Keith plunged after him, the deep water engulfing him.

They both arose in the waves laughing, the water was cool and refreshing and the sheer thrill of the jump had brought them both to the present moment, returning them from where they wandered, brought them to each other.

“Again!” Lance cried, swimming towards the rope ladder.

“Yes!” Keith agreed, swimming after him and hoisting himself up onto the ladder.

They stood at the brink again, Keith could feel his hand drawn towards Lance’s as if tugged by an invisible force but he kept it in check. Holding hands while jumping off a cliff was perhaps too intimate.

“Three,” Keith starts with a giant grin.

“Two,” Lance returns.

“ONE!” They both shouted, running and jumping from the cliff in tandem, frozen for a moment in midair as they looked at each other in the very moment of ecstasy, the very moment when they hung suspended far above the water, in the air. This was the moment they lived for, this was why they became pilots, the driving factor in their lives; this was freedom.

They shared the freedom for a suspended second and then were crashing towards the water once more, sharing the thrill.

Lance plunged into the cool refreshment, the water familiar like a womb, and emerged with a laugh.

Keith, however, was not so lucky. If they’d paid attention they’d have noticed that the ladder was higher up than it was last time, that the second sun, which controlled the tides, was descending instead of rising like last time they’d visited, and maybe they would have noticed the drop in the water. It was the shift in tides partly, but also bad luck, that Keith plunged down into the deep water only to find the bottom closer than he’d expected, his right leg extended. That leg took the blow, his ankle crumpling beneath the force of his jump and the impact with the rock. He gasped in pain, inhaling water, and then flailed about as pain shot through his body.

Keith was, however, no stranger to injury. He cleared his mind and, as he was descending to the seabed, pushed off the bottom with his left foot and began to swim towards the surface.

Lance broke the surface, laughing, but stopped when he realized he was alone. He began to look around, “Keith?”

Keith broke the surface not far away with a sound halfway between a sob and a yell, water filling his lungs as he bobbed back down, struggling to stay afloat through the blinding pain. Lance spotted this and began to forward-crawl towards him with the skill of someone who grew up on the water. He was there in seconds, pulling Keith up so that one of his arms was around Lance’s shoulder, treading water with enough power to keep them both afloat.

“Are you okay?”

“I struck the bottom,” Keith could move his arms and one leg, but the other leg was a dead weight.

“Shit,” Lance cursed.

“Yeah,” Keith agreed as he coughed the salty water out of his lungs.

Lance quietly began to swim towards the ladder, helping Keith swim with him. He had Keith hold onto the rope, but he realized quickly that the other youth was unable pull himself up at the moment.

“Keith,” Lance looked him in the eye, all seriousness, mere centimetres away from his face, as if he was about to kiss him.

“Yeah?”

“Hold on. Hold on tightly, I’m getting help.”

Keith nodded.

Lance tugged himself up the ladder and climbed it with speed. He tossed everything out of the pack in search of the communicator, “Guys? Do you read?”

_ <<I hear you number three,>> _ Coran’s voice came through strong and steady.

_ <<Keith got hurt jumping in the water, can you send someone to help us?>> _

_ <<Can you describe the nature of number four’s injuries?>> _

_ <<Uh, I think he busted a foot? We were jumping off the cliff, like last time. He’s at the bottom of the ladder in the water and I want to get back down to him, but send help, okay Coran?> _ >

_ <<Roger number three, help is on the way.>> _

Lance sighed in relief and then shimmied back down the ladder to Keith.

Keith had recovered from the shock somewhat, despite the stabbing pain radiating up from his foot.

“Are you okay?” Lance asked.

“Fine,” Keith said.

“Do you, uh, do you want to try climbing up?”

Keith braced himself and pulled, with his arms only, on the bottom of the rope ladder. He set his left foot into the bottom rung and then pulled, jumping up with his one working leg. It was harder, he could only go one rung at a time, as his right foot dangled uselessly, but he managed to pull himself up to the top. The entire time Lance insisted on giving him encouraging words, “One more step,” and “You got this man!” until he wanted to punch Lance in the face. 

Even if those words were the only thing keeping him going.

Except he couldn’t do anything because Keith was too exhausted and too pained to do anything once he got to the top of the cliff except collapse. Lance sat him up and offered him water until the others arrived, telling him to take big sips to wash away the salt and to go ahead and cough out all the water he’d swallowed. He wrapped his jacket around Keith’s shoulders since Keith hadn’t thought to bring his. The help arrived, Shiro and Allura, who quickly carted them and their gathered fruit, down the cliff with inhuman ease. Inhuman because Shiro had that arm and Allura was, well, Allura.

* * *

Hunk came back to camp to find Allura treating Keith’s apparently broken ankle while Lance looked on with poorly disguised guilt and concern. Coran had called Allura and Shiro instead of Hunk and Pidge because they better equipped, but frankly Hunk was okay with this arrangement. 

Apparently those berries which Coran had suggested were ‘just like coffee’ were more like ‘coffee and LSD’ because Pidge was going 500 kilometers a dobosh in technobabble and was so far lost on Hunk that he thought perhaps he should be seeking medical attention for his partner as well.

By then they were all down at the base camp on the beach. Keith was in a chair where Shiro and Allura were prodding his right foot while Lance tried to hold his hand. Hunk, knowing what Pidge needed, quickly handed her a notebook and some crayons so that she could Pidge out before checking on what the rest of his team was doing.

“What happened?” Hunk asked.

“The tide was out,” Lance explained.

“I think it’s broken, Shiro sighed, gesturing at Keith’s blue, misshapen ankle.

“It is broken.” Coran diagnosed, “Fifteen vargas at least in the pod.”

Keith sighed, “I blame Lance. He dared me to jump with him.”

“You did it!”

“Only because you would have mocked me if you didn’t!”

“What, can’t handle a little oral-banter, mullet?” Lance mocked.

Keith tried to pull himself up to lash out at Lance. Unfortunately his body held him down and all he did was hiss in pain and anger. They all paused and calmed down for a moment. Pidge scribbled and ignored them, completely distracted by the promise of putting words to paper.

“I thought we had a moment,” Keith said quietly, defensively. They did have a moment, somewhere in mid-air, grinning at each other as they were suspended for a tick, ready to plunge downwards into that glimmering water.

Lance looked away, suddenly awkward. Because Keith had then broken his fucking ankle.

Hunk wondered if his plan had worked, but then realized that they were glaring at each other and thought maybe it hadn’t? He was so confused, did they hate each other? Lance seemed awful concerned, had he pushed Keith? What happened? Why was Keith hurt?

Then Shiro took charge, as he was wont to do, and said, “Alright, let’s get Keith back on the ship, and the fruit too. Coran, Hunk, can you start loading it up?”

Hunk nodded, “Sure.” Clearly Pidge would be no help, but they would deal with that later.

“We’ll put him in the pod and he’ll be fine in no time,” said Allura, “What is that Earth expression? Correct as snow?”

“Right as rain?” Shiro suggested.

“Yes. He will be right as rain in less than a day.”

Keith grumbled a little.

“Hey, fifteen vargas isn’t bad,” Lance said encouragingly, “I’ve been in there wa~y longer, you’ll be fine. It’s just like sleeping.” Lance gripped Keith’s shoulder. He meant it to be encouraging, but perhaps he went overboard? Did he grip it too hard, did he squeeze a little too encouragingly? Lance didn’t know, but Keith limped back into the Castleship, and into the pod, with only Lance’s shoulder for support as Coran pressed the buttons on the control panel. 

Keith felt himself grow cold and sleepy. Lance’s concerned face, half-eying the blurry window of the pod as he spoke with Hunk, was the last thing Keith saw.

Meanwhile Hunk was on Pidge-sitting duty.


	2. Ten Things I Hate About Mullets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Father's Day Space Dad!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am absolutely overwhelmed by the response so far, you guys are stars! That was only the first chapter, this next one is possibly my favourite so please enjoy!

Hunk flopped onto the couch and sighed. Pidge was doing her thing, abusing that keyboard like it had insulted her mother, and didn’t seem to notice him. She had been awake a long time, but she was no longer drawing on the walls, so that at least was a good thing. Hunk sighed again.

“What?” asked Pidge.

“It failed,” Hunk groaned.

“What failed?”

“Project Klance.”

“Klance?”

“Keith and Lance. Or is Leith better? It sounds weird though…” Hunk mused, “I wonder which one would top?”

“Stop!” Pidge interrupted, horrified at thought, “Let’s not go down that road.”

“Right. But Keith broke his leg.”

“Sure,” agreed Pidge, “But do you know where Lance is?”

“No,” Hunk shook his head.

“He’s in the infirmary waiting outside of that pod like he’s not worried.”

“Really?”

"Mhmm," Pidge nodded, “He’s been there since we got back.”

“Is he actually worried or just guilty?”

She shrugged, “Who knows. But that’s a good sign, right?”

“I guess.”

“Oh, there you are,” Coran came into the room, “What are you two doing up so late? Training starts first thing in the morning.”

“Can’t sleep, clowns will eat me,” Pidge said.

“Clowns?”

Hunk was just as baffled, “I don’t know. Those berries did a number on her.”

Coran toyed with his moustache, “Yes, well, number five said she was used to consuming large amounts of coffee so I thought Minge berries would be similar. I did not take into account that she would eat so many of them, nor her body weight for that matter.”

“Or that they’re basically LSD,” Hunk muttered.

“What was that?” asked Coran.

“Keith won’t be out of the pod until late, and he’ll probably need to rest more after,” Hunk changed the subject, “Hopefully Allura won’t mind training late tomorrow.”

“We are on a very tight schedule here. Zarkon won’t wait while you sleep in.”

“Coran,” Hunk deadpanned, “We’re down two paladins at least for the next little while, three if Lance sleeps in the infirmary waiting for Keith and throws out his back or catches a cold or something dumb.”

“Ah, so that is where he is. Lad’s got it bad.”

“Thank you!” Hunk exclaimed. Even Coran saw the romantic tension!

“For what?”

“For acknowledging that Lance and Keith are pining for each other.”

“Well," Coran twisted his moustache, "certainly, a blind Trimbler could see that.”

“Do you have any suggestions? I want to see them together and happy but they just… they just end up with broken bones.”

“Ah, I see, that was a clever plan then, sending them up the mountain together,” Coran looked over at Pidge who was now typing with her toes. “There is an herbal beverage which could perhaps help in this situation too. I managed to procure a case not long ago.”

“Like alcohol?”

“Alcohol?”

“It’s a popular Earth beverage, drug, er,” Hunk wasn’t sure how to explain, “It’s known for lowering inhibitions.”

“Ah, yes, much like that. It’s called Norvil.”

“It’s not like Nunvil, is it?”

“It is similar, but by all accounts, better tasting. Usually it is served at parties and diplomatic meetings because it is well-known for loosening tongues and getting folks to admit concealed feelings.”

“That sounds perfect,” Hunk said, “How about if I prepare a special dinner tomorrow night to go with it?”

“That sounds delightful. What are we celebrating?”

“I don’t know, teamwork?” Hunk suggested, “I’m sure I can find an Earth holiday we missed. Father’s day maybe?”

“Very good,” Coran nodded, “We will toast our Fathers with Norvil.”

“And Project Klance will happen!” Hunk exclaimed.

“Project Klance?” Coran asked, confused.

“No. Please don’t ask that,” Pidge said, “I don’t want to know who’s on top.”

* * *

“A toast, to our fathers!” Allura declared. They all held up their glasses of the Windex-blue liquid and said “Cheers!” before downing the first sip and sitting down to their meal.

Norvil wasn’t bad. Oddly enough it tasted exactly like artificial blue raspberry flavouring. Shiro had limited the amount that Pidge was allowed to about the amount of wine you would give a person her age at a wedding, but the other Paladins he figured were old enough to be responsible about it.

“How do you usually celebrate Father’s day on Earth?” Allura asked.

“It’s not a statutory holiday,” said Pidge, “But it’s always a Sunday in June, so most people just spend the day with their dad.”

“Or their grandfather,” interrupted Hunk.

“And you get them a gift,” said Lance, “Like a tie or a box of chocolates.”

“Oh!” Allura said, looking at Shiro, “Sorry, we should have gotten you something.”

“Me?” Shiro choked on his drink, “I’m not a father. At least not that I’m aware of.”

“Do the other Paladins not refer to you as Space Dad?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s a joke…”

“Oh my God,” Lance exclaimed, “You’re right! We forgot about Space Dad!”

“Please accept this gift,” said Pidge, pulling a small wrench out of her pocket and offering it to Shiro.

“Uh, thank you?”

“Oh!” Lance exclaimed, “You can have my dessert!”

“And mine!” added Keith.

“I have something for you,” Hunk stood up, almost shy. “Stand up.”

Shiro complied. Hunk wrapped his arms around him in a tight bear hug, lifting him off the ground very slightly, “Thank you for being my Space Dad.”

Allura joined in, and quickly the other Paladins did as well. They hugged a good long while, but when they pulled away they wondered why they were one short in the group hug.

“Where’s Coran?” asked Lance.

“Did we say something to offend him?”

“Oh,” Allura said, frowning, looking at his vacant seat. “No. I think I know what’s wrong, he’ll be alright.”

They sat back down.

“Allura,” Shiro said after a moment, “Does Coran… did Coran have children on Altea?”

“Yes. One son and one daughter. They were my good friends growing up.”

A silent weight fell over the table. 

“Should we go talk to him or something?” Hunk asked.

“No,” Allura shook her head, “He prefers to be alone at times like this.”

After a little while Pidge began, “I miss my dad. Even his stupid dad jokes.”

“Like give peas a chance?” asked Shiro.

“I’m hungry,” said Pidge.

“Hi hungry,” said Shiro, “I’m dad.” There was a collective groan from everyone except Allura who burst out laughing.

“Hey dad,” Pidge grinned, “Can you put the cat out?”

“I didn’t know she was on fire.” That one got a few giggles. Shiro and Pidge were being encouraged.

“Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon?” Pidge asked.

“Great food,” said Shiro, “No atmosphere.”

“I just saw this show about beavers,” said Pidge.

“Best dam documentary I’ve ever seen,” agreed Shiro. “Why did the coffee file a police report?” 

“It got mugged,” Pidge said.

“What do you call a person with no body and no nose?” Shiro grinned at Allura.

“Nobody knows!” Pidge and Shiro said in unison.

Allura was laughing hysterically by now. Shiro paused so she could catch her breath and inhale some Norvil.

“Are you okay?”

“This humour is wonderful. These are ‘dad jokes’ you say?”

“They’re just bad puns,” said Pidge.

“Dads are known to tell them,” Shiro explained, “This is basically Sam Holt’s ‘best of’ collection.”

“I love them.”

The other Paladins weren’t sure why Allura found dad jokes so funny, perhaps it was a type of humour unfamiliar to Alteans?

“Do you want to hear a joke about paper?” asked Shiro.

“Yes please!” said Allura.

“Don’t bother,” said Pidge, “It’s tearable.”

Apparently however Alteans were able to shoot liquid out of their noses just like humans caught at awkward moments.

“Oh my, pardon me,” Allura held her napkin to her face, blushing and sputtering as the Norvil burned through her sinuses. The entire table erupted into laughter now.

“My grandpa’s jokes never even made sense, they were super stretched,” said Hunk, “And sometimes they were, like, really offensive.”

Shiro nodded, “I get that, my dad, my  _ chichi _ was from an older generation, some of the things he used to say, the terms he used… they are no longer politically correct in the slightest.”

“My  _ padre _ didn’t do a lot of dad jokes unless I had a girl over,” Lance said, “Then it seemed like his entire purpose in life was to embarrass me.”

“You had girls over?” Pidge teased.

Lance rolled his eyes, “I had friends. Some were girls.”

“My dad told the absolute worst dad jokes imaginable,” said Keith, “They were awful, made no sense at all. I forced myself to laugh anyway because I could tell he was trying so hard. Sometimes I was just laughing at how bad they were.”

“Thank you for sharing these memories,” Allura smiled, “And Pidge, I promise you, we are doing all we can to find your father and brother and bring them home.”

Shiro nodded in agreement, “We’ll bring them home and then we can all enjoy terrible jokes from your dad.”

“Thanks guys,” Pidge said around the lump of emotion forming in her throat.

“I miss my father too,” said Allura, “I know he’s been dead for over 10,000 years but it feels like just last week I was talking to him.”

“You did have the hologram-Alfor,” pointed out Shiro.

“True. I knew in my mind it wasn’t actually him,” she said, “But I couldn’t help but feel like it was.”

“Okay, so what’s the most dangerous thing your dad ever did?” asked Lance, “My  _ padre _ has this obsession with sharks, he loves them, so he wanted to swim in one of those cages with them.”

Hunk poured out more Norvil for everyone, he had a feeling the storytelling was just beginning.

“But he didn’t have access to one so instead of asking around or going to a tourist place he decided to make one out of this old metal hog fencing we had in the back yard. He was out there welding it together for like a week and then he brought me and my brothers and María, the oldest of us, all out on the boat until we saw fins. He went over the boat on top of the cage… and then realized that he hadn’t made a door to get into it.”

Everyone burst out laughing.

“He was gesturing to us to reel him back in, but María thought he meant to roll him in deeper, so he went in, on top of the cage, right into the midst of a group of like, six, hammerhead sharks.”

“Oh my God,” said Hunk.

“Did he get mauled?” asked Keith, almost eagerly.

“Oh no, he was fine,” Lance said dismissively, “Hammerheads don’t usually bite people, they’re fairly friendly. They came up to check him out and one of them almost knocked him off the cage him with its tail but besides that they didn’t hurt him.”

Pidge grinned, “My dad was always making shit in the garage. Half of his inventions resulted in fires. Mom insisted we install sprinklers in there.”

Once the general laughter died down Shiro said, “My _ chichi _ lit things on fire too. I think it’s just an old-Japanese thing? He would collect all of our paper garbage and have a bonfire. One time he lit a giant one within 10 feet of a house with the wind going the wrong way and the gas pipe just beneath it. It was a good thing we had tile shingles because wood ones wouldn’t have done well, there were actual sparks landing on the roof. Aki, my brother, tried to stop him but  _ otousan _ thought Aki was just mad because he was burning all of his porn so he ignored him until I called  _ okasan _ , mom that is, and she had him put it out.”

Shiro laughed in fond remembrance and the others joined him.

“I don’t know if I have any stories like that,” began Keith, and then he suddenly remembered something. “Oh, actually, you guys know those tiki torch things, with the little oil container?”

They all said yes. Shiro briefly explained it to Allura who nodded.

“My dad once had one of those catch on fire during a barbecue, so, to put it out, he dumped it upside down into a bucket of water. Of course the oil just poured out into the bucket and suddenly he had not only a burning torch but also a flaming bucket of water. I don't know anyone else who set water on fire.”

“Oops,” Lance sniggered. They all laughed. 

“He’s a great guy, but he says I take after my mother in brains and I’m glad.”

Lance bit back a comeback about Keith’s brainpower; it was rare Keith talked about his childhood, the Norvil seemed to be opening everybody up and making them feel warm and talkative.

“Hunk?” Pidge asked.

“Nothing like that from my grandpa, he was a war vet though, and he kept a lot of guns, collected them actually. Drove my mom nuts, she didn’t think they were safe to have around me growing up, but when I turned thirteen he took me out to go shooting and it was honestly a lot of fun. I learned a bit about the history too, I mean he obviously had Colts and Lugers, but also this really old Mauser from, like, 1888.”

The conversation continued, memories both funny and sad and bittersweet were shared. Over the course of the night Shiro was gradually moving closer to Allura. He took Coran’s usual seat and, when her glass was empty, reached for the bottle to refill it at the exact same time as she reached for it. Their hands touched and they both retracted them, blushing and apologizing.

Then Shiro went back for it and filled her glass.

“Thank you,” she said, and then returned the favour as Shiro’s was nearing empty. Conversation broke off so that Shiro and Allura were speaking privately to each other, their heads pressed close together, like conspirators.

Allura’s laughter was music to Shiro’s ears. Before anyone else knew what was happening she took his flesh hand and pressed her lips to it, kissing it gently.

Silence fell. “Be mine?” she asked.

“Allura?” he asked.

“Shiro,” she replied, drawing herself close to him, face inches away from him, her breath warm and damp. Her jewelled eyes were inscrutable.

Warmed by the Norvil and the tension Shiro took a risk and kissed her; Allura responded in kind. The others looked on, jaws dropped, while their leaders shared a passionate first kiss.

Shiro was already prepared for them when he came up for air, one metal finger held in the air to silence them. “Questions later,” he said.

After a heartbeat of silence Lance sighed, “There goes my chance with our princess.”

Pidge, Allura and Hunk laughed at that for the joke it was.

Keith snorted, “As if you ever had a chance.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s out of your league,” Keith said coldly, sipping his drink.

“Oooh,” Pidge sat up eagerly, ready for the inevitable fight. 

Hunk felt like he was watching a fire in the moment of ignition.

“How is she out of my league?” Lance asked, tone rising, “I’m handsome, I’m capable, I’m charismatic, I’m funny…”

“To five year-olds maybe.”

“The only thing funny about you is your mullet.”

“Is that all you got?” Keith raised an eyebrow, “Insulting my hair?”

"Ten bucks on Keith," said Pidge quietly to Hunk.

"I can't bet against Lance," Hunk whispered back, "He's my bro.”

“Yeah, well, your stupid, soft-looking, mullet is about your only defining feature,” said Lance.

“You’re a sexy little fuck boy who would do anything with legs,” Keith spat out.

“I’d do you, asshole.”

“Yeah, well, I’d do you too, dick-weed.”

“I want to smack you in your stupid cute mouth when you do that tiny little dumb smile,” Lance said, thinking of that rare little grin Keith got on occasions when everyone was happy, like they’d been tonight.

“I hate that you make me smile,” said Keith

“I hate how hot your ass is,” Lance said.

“I hate how you just keep trying… how you never give up even when you’re hurting and homesick.”

“I hate how you accepted us all as your family, no questions.”

“I hate your fucking beautiful stupidly blue eyes!” Keith said, staring into Lance’s eyes with some combination of rage and passion. He stood up, slamming his hands down on the table.

Shiro got the sense that this was getting out of hand and stopped cuddling Allura to break in, “Boys.”

“We’re done,” Keith snarled, turning and fleeing from the room.

“You can’t just blast your feelings out the airlock like all your other problems!” Lance called behind him.

“Watch me,” was the reply from the hall.

“He’s not actually going to blast himself out of the airlock?” Hunk asked tentatively.

“No,” Shiro said, “Airlock’s the other way. I think he’s headed to the training deck.”

“I’m going to bed,” Lance stood up.

“Hey Lance?” Pidge asked.

“Yeah?”

“Are you in a forest?”

“What?”

“I can see your pining from here,” she grinned.

Lance slammed the door after himself.

“Oh my God Pidge,” Hunk sighed, “You can’t just say someone’s pining.”

* * *

“I hope Coran’s okay,” said Hunk, settling at the workbench where his current projects were laid out. He began to unscrew the outside panel from a prototype, a small wearable cloaking device, he’d been working on that was so far failing.

“Allura said he’ll be fine,” Pidge reminded him, “But I feel bad for him too.”

“What are you working on?”

“A satellite. I’d like to see if we can connect to Earth from here.”

Hunk perked up, “Do you really think that’s possible?”

Pidge shrugged, “It’s just a prototype so far, receiving signals is easier than broadcasting so I’m starting there.”

“Cool!”

“We might have cable within a week,” Pidge grinned.

They worked in silence for a short while before Pidge asked, “Can I get that wrench?”

“Yup,” Hunk said, giving it to her and pausing to look at the satellite. “Project Klance kinda backfired, hey?” he said, a little mournfully.

“Lance and Keith admitted some stuff.”

“I feel like I made it worse. And then you were mean to Lance.”

“At least the Norvil worked on Shiro and Allura,” pointed out Pidge.

“Yeah,” Hunk brightened up, “No more pining there.”

“Just uncomfortable PDAs between our leaders. Yay!” Pidge said sarcastically, tossing the wrench back into the toolbox.

“Hey, it can only make the team stronger.”

“So what’s your next quirky rom-com cliché—I mean plan?” Pidge asked.

“I… I honestly don’t know. I’m starting to think that maybe this can’t be forced, that their relationship just needs to happen organically and that forcing it might delay it.”

“Huh…” said Pidge, discovering that Hunk was losing interest in his human experiment, “So you’re just gonna sit back?”

“Unless I get a better idea.”

* * *

Lance walked into the control room. He’d already been back to his quarters, done his usual bedtime hygiene ritual, and found the main room empty. No one else was around so he brought up the surveillance screens in the control room, just to check. Hunk and Pidge were in the lab, Shiro and Allura were somewhere that was not monitored (and he didn't want to know), and Keith was, predictably, kicking the shiny metal ass of a gladiator.

_ Or was he? _

Lance squinted at the video feed. It looked like the gladiator was kicking Keith’s ass. Perhaps he was feeling off from the Norvil still? His movements were jerky, thoughtless and quick, as if Keith were hitting a punching bag. It was like he was trying to hit a punching bag and his mind was elsewhere so he didn’t bother with a defensive posture. Only, this punching bag hit back, and it kept nailing Keith, almost as if Keith was letting it.

Decisively, Lance shut down the video feed and made for the training deck.

He arrived to find Keith in his t-shirt, nose bloody, some impressive bruises beginning on his arms, still fighting back.

“Little off your game tonight?” Lance asked casually.

The distraction was just enough for the gladiator to strike Keith in the side of the head as he turned to face Lance. He cried out, falling to the ground.

“ _ Coño _ ,” Lance swore, “Simulation off.”

The gladiator shut down and Lance rushed to Keith’s side, crouching down. “Are you okay man?”

Keith shoved Lance away from him, one hand clutching the side of his face and his right eye, blood still dripping from his nose “Fuck off!” he snarled.

“Whoah,” Lance backed off, holding his hands up in defeat, “No need for that. I just… I came here to apologize for earlier. I was drunk. We were drunk on alien stuff. I’m sorry.”

Keith slumped, sitting on the floor, “Okay.”

“I’m going to get the first aid kit,” Lance fetched the kit that was kept for injuries such as this on the training deck. He set to work cleaning up Keith’s bloody nose with soft Altean gauze.

“Hold this here,” he instructed, having Keith pinch the gauze to his nose.

Keith did so while Lance probed gently at the side of his face, already swelling. He tried not to wince but failed as it was pressed on. Lance winced in sympathy, “Bot got ya good.”

Lance continued to fish around in the kit until he found the chemical ice-pack, breaking the inside to activate it and then holding it up against the side of Keith’s face. All the while he spoke softly, soothingly, like Keith was a half-feral cat ready to bolt at any second. He sat still, stiff, obeying Lance’s instructions, but hardly responding.

“Open your eyes wide,” Lance instructed, gazing into Keith’s lavender-grey eyes, from one to the other.

“Your pupils look okay, do you feel nauseous or dizzy?”

“No.”

“Good, probably no concussion then.”

“Lance?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have first aid training?” Keith asked.

“No, I just have a lot of siblings. My sister María is a paramedic so she taught me a lot of this stuff too.”

“Oh.”

“I meant it.” Lance said after a long, awkwardly drawn out pause, “I actually am sorry about earlier. For saying that I hate you… and all that other crap.”

The biggest part? He actually was. He didn’t hate Keith, but what could he say? What would it mean if he liked Keith? What would it mean if Keith liked him? What would it be like to see him with that kind of love? Not like a friend, not like a brother, but like a lover…?

“Yeah, me too,” Keith said, his tone like he was making an official apology to a school principal, “I’m sorry I said all those things. Can we forget about it?”

“Sure.”

Neither of them, however, could forget what had been said. But they could pretend. They could pretend it never happened, just like they pretended Keith didn’t have a black eye that for whatever reason he wouldn’t go into the pod for.

* * *

Pidge didn’t make empty promises; within a week the Castleship had cable. Unfortunately, signals from Earth didn’t reach this part of the galaxy until over 50 years since their original airing. They were getting broadcasts from the late 1960s, some of the earliest signals ever sent.

Coran was instantly hooked, finding much of Earth culture and history absolutely fascinating. Allura watched some too, especially the news programs, asking Shiro all sorts of historical and political questions which he didn’t always know the answer to; suddenly Shiro wished he’d paid more attention during history class so he could answer all of her questions. It was during the commercial break of one of these news broadcasts that Hunk, working on some things in the room, overheard an ad for the station’s upcoming special movie night. They were going to air  _ Casablanca  _ tomorrow night.

“Oh my God, we need to watch it!” he said.

“Is it good?” asked Allura.

Hunk nodded eagerly, “Yes.”

“It’s considered a cinematic masterpiece of its time,” said Shiro, “There are a lot of lines that come out of that film that get quoted in entirely other contexts, like ‘Play it again Sam’ and ‘Round up the usual suspects’.”

“And ‘Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine’.” added Hunk.

Allura claps her hands together, “Very well, let us enjoy it together then, as a Paladin bonding exercise.”

“Let’s just call it a movie night,” Shiro suggested, “That sounds a little more casual.”

“Movie night!” Hunk exclaimed, “I’ll prepare some snacks.”

* * *

The next day Pidge and Hunk were in the lab as per usual.

“ _ Casablanca _ hey?” she asked, “I’ve never seen it.”

“Never seen  _ Casa _ … seriously Pidge, you are so  _ uncultured _ .”

“I’m not an old person.”

“Ouch,” Hunk put a hand over his heart, “I’m barely older than you.”

“You’re an old person on the inside. But in a good way.”

“Okay,” Hunk could accept that.

“Is it a rom-com?” she asked.

“Sort of. I mean, it came out before that was really a genre. It’s about love, but also war.”

“Is this another part of Project Klance?” Pidge suggested hopefully.

Hunk sighed, “I’ve basically given up on that project. I mean, maybe love can’t happen in artificial conditions? I don’t think the experiment worked. I feel like it blew up in my face and blasted off my eyebrows.”

Pidge nodded, “Well, you can’t force it, but I don’t see why you can’t help it along. They did sort of admit feelings for each other.”

“Yeah but then they insulted each other and stormed out of the room,” Hunk continued, “What if I was wrong? What if Keith isn’t even gay?”

Pidge laughed so hard she broke into a small coughing fit, “No way. Do you remember how many girls were shamelessly throwing themselves at him at the Garrison? He didn’t even bat an eye.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Also I found a gay skin mag in his bag once.”

“What?” Hunk exclaimed, “You get mad when I so much as breathe on your stuff and then you go digging through Keith’s?”

Pidge shrugged, “I was looking for something else.”

Hunk shook his head, “Well. Lance does seem to like taking care of Keith when he’s hurt.”

“That’s part of his personality, he’s a natural care-giver. He brought me tea earlier… or whatever this stuff is,” Pidge swirled around the last of the liquid in her mug and drank it down.

“Keith isn’t the type to let people take care of him,” Hunk pointed out.

“But he lets Lance do it.”

“Touché,” said Hunk, “Maybe if they spend long enough around each other they’ll figure it out.”

“Maybe,” Pidge agreed, “Watching romantic old person movies together can’t hurt.”

* * *

That night found all of team Voltron curled up on the couch in the common room with a large projected screen in front of them, the movie just starting. Shiro and Allura were cuddling on one side, Hunk was next to Shiro, with Lance on his other side and Keith next to Lance. Coran had pulled up his own chair near the couch on the side Allura sat and added extra cushions to it. Pidge was on the floor atop a pile of cushions, leaning against the couch, covered in blankets. Everyone was already in their sleepwear as Hunk had mandated, even Coran in some sort of robe and slipper getup.

“Wan’ some of these?” Lance offered the bowl of crunchy, salty, green somethings Hunk had put together to Pidge. If you didn’t think too hard about it they were like seaweed flavoured pretzels.

“No thanks,” she waved him away.

“Are you feeling okay?” Pidge looked  _ off  _ to Lance, as she had all day, pale and small huddled up in her blankets.

“I’m just tired.”

“Okay,” Lance said, passing the snacks to Keith.

“It’s starting!” Hunk exclaimed gleefully. Allura ordered the lights to dim and they all sat back to watch the film.

“Why is there no colour?” asked Keith.

“It’s from 1942,” Hunk said, “they didn’t have colour yet.”

“Your planet had no colour?” Coran exclaimed.

“Not yet,” Shiro grinned, “We got it a few years after. The entire planet gradually became coloured.”

Pidge laughed, “Don’t listen to his dad-joke nonsense, we didn’t have colour film yet, the world was coloured but we didn’t have the technology to record it.”

“But this station is usually in colour,” Allura didn’t seem to understand.

“Yeah,” said Hunk, “But the film it was recorded on was black and white. When this was broadcasted it was a classic already.”

“Shh!”

* * *

“But why didn’t Rick just go with her!” Keith declared angrily at the end.

“He loved Ilsa and wanted her to be safe and happy,” Lance said, as if it were obvious.

“But she’d be stuck with Lazlo, would he make her happy?”

“I think she loved Lazlo a bit still too.”

“Ugh,” Keith tossed up his arms, “But what about Rick?”

“He’ll be okay,” Lance said, “He’s Rick.”

“He’s in the middle of a war zone!”

“Boys,” Shiro suddenly interrupted Lance and Keith’s argument. As entertaining as it was to see them argue about the ending of an ancient romance movie, he had more pressing matters. He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper, “Pidge is sleeping.”

“Aw,” Hunk looked down at the youth who was passed right out against Shiro’s leg, wound tightly in her blanket nest, “She missed the ending.”

Shiro shook his leg a bit, trying to wake her gently, “Pidge?”

Pidge was right out.

“Hey, Pidge?” Shiro brushed the hair out of her face, and then frowned, pressing a palm, then the back of hand, against her forehead. His tone suddenly went serious, “She’s got a fever.”

“What?” The others were suddenly concerned, gathering around Pidge on the floor.

“Coran?” Allura asked.

“Out of my way, let me do a quick diagnostic.”

The other three Paladins cleared out of the way while Coran measured pulse and temperature with a handheld device that he seemed to keep on him just for such things. After a tense few moments he announced, “I think it’s a simple virus, a catarrh maybe. We should get number five resting somewhere more comfortable.”

“I’ve got it,” Allura said, easily picking Pidge into her arms, blankets and all, “You other three stay here. Or better yet go to your rooms, we don’t know if this is contagious yet. Shiro, come with us please, we need a reference on human physiology.”

They didn’t go to their own rooms per say, they ended up with Lance and Hunk on Hunk’s bed while Keith stood awkwardly with his arms crossed against the wall.

“I’m worried,” Lance said, “What the hell is a catarrh? Is that Altean?

“It’s old English,” Hunk said.

“Huh?” asked Keith.

“Ran it through the translation program just now,” he held up a device Pidge and Shiro sometimes tinkered with when they were trying to talk to the Alteans, “Old word for influenza.”

“Space flu,” Lance sighed, “That sounds… well, not good, but not deadly, right?”

“Pidge is otherwise healthy,” Hunk said, “I’m sure she’ll be fine. The flu is only dangerous for old people and babies.”

“Right,” Lance said, “Thanks Hunk.”

“Wanna play a game?” Hunk asked, pulling out a game board and a rattling box full of game pieces, “Coran showed me this, it’s pretty much like Chinese checkers, but also a bit like Settlers of Catan.”

“I’ll just be going,” Keith began to edge towards the door, “Let you two play.”

“No, no,” Hunk said, “Sit down. You can play with up to five people.” He automatically gave Lance the blue pieces, Keith the red ones, and kept the yellow ones for himself.

The game was civil, subdued even; that is, there were no tables thrown. There was no mention of the wreckage from their previous social gathering, or the black eye that Keith subconsciously pressed sometimes while looking at Lance. He would press the fading bruise lightly with his left hand as it cycled one colour to the next while his gaze rested on Lance, his mouth slightly open and his eyes light years away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish  
> padre: father  
> cono: shit
> 
> Japanese  
> chichi: (my) father  
> otousan: dad  
> okasan: mom
> 
> TEASER ART FOR UPCOMING:  
> http://sabertoothwalrus.tumblr.com/post/157406008017/keith-is-spooning-his-sick-boyfriend-like-its-his  
> http://summer-arts.tumblr.com/post/157403019321/my-piece-for-fairylaughings-adorable


	3. Pride & Paladins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Paladins are dropping like flies to the dreaded space plague, meanwhile Lance and Keith finally talk it out after Keith insults classic Adam West Batman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, floored by how many people are enjoying this. Your comments are fuelling me through the last gruelling bit of this.

* * *

 

**Chapter III: Pride and Paladins**

 

*** * ***

 

Pidge was sick for a long time.

 

The next day they met in the common room and Allura told them, gravely, that Pidge had a viral infection. “This sort of illness is relatively common on Earth too from what Shiro tells me.”

 

“The flu,” Shiro clarified, “But because it’s a virus the pods don’t work.”

 

“At least they won’t work for this strain, the pods haven’t been updated in 10,000 years. Viruses evolve constantly.” Allura ran a hand through her hair, a nervous, weary, gesture, “Pidge should be alright, it’s not fatal for the young and strong, just uncomfortable. It’s also quite contagious. Normally on Altea we would have quarantine protocols in effect for visiting foreign planets, but we have not been following those out here because there are so few of us and we don’t have time for it and we don’t even have the facility to make up a vaccine and… well, I just hope Zarkon won’t attack while we’re down one or more pilot.”

 

“And we won’t be down more than one,” interrupted Coran, “Because you will all take my famous Altean Health Beverage.”

 

“Coran…” Allura began.

 

“It works princess, I promise you.”

 

“It’s folk medicine, totally scientifically unproven,” she sighed, relenting a little, “Do you have enough?”

 

“Oh yes, I got supplies the last time I was able. I have made enough for all of us.”

 

Allura scowled as Coran handed her — and the rest of the gathered paladins — each a small cup of neon yellow-green liquid.

 

“Bottoms up!” he grinned and downed his own.

 

Allura knocked her shot of liquid back, and then made a disgusted face. The others downed theirs as well, proceeding to gag and choke on the revolting liquid. Coran passed around water to chase away the taste. Keith had a hard time keeping his down, almost bringing it back up into the cup.

 

“So we’re safe now?” asked Hunk.

 

“Yes,” assured Coran, “provided you all dose with this five times a day, every day, until the virus is no longer active in the area.”

 

“Five times?” Lance said.

 

“A day?” added Keith.

 

“That’s ridiculous Coran!” Hunk said.

 

“This stuff is… not palatable,” Shiro agreed.

 

“Understatement,” Lance scoffed, “That was the most revolting thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

 

“I don’t know if I can keep down another dose,” said Hunk.

 

“I won’t make them do it, Coran,” Allura said, “We don’t even know if this stuff works. It’s a folk-cure!”

 

Coran protested, “Princess, we must do what we can.”

 

“I won’t drink more, if they can handle it then they can drink it, but I, for one, refuse.”

 

“Princess!”

 

“You and I are more resilient to such things anyway, we will take care of Pidge, and provided we keep quarantine measures in effect everyone will be alright.”

 

That was the end of it. If Allura wouldn’t drink Coran’s health beverage then it became optional for everyone else.

 

* * *

 

Coran and Allura kept Pidge in the infirmary, a room behind the pods equipped with beds and medical equipment. Shiro was the most anxious, although the other pilots were as well. He was trying to keep as busy as possible and so he developed a new workout routine for the pilots, one which involved more stretching and meditation than their previous ones because he believed they needed to work relaxation (even if forced) into their routine. Three days after Pidge went down he revealed it to the others.

 

“Yoga?” Lance asked, “Really Shiro?”

 

“It is important to be balanced and flexible, and the mental benefits will be helpful for us as well in bonding with our lions and forming Voltron.”

 

Shiro began with guiding them through a sun salutation, “Arms up, way up, bend backwards, inhale. Now bend down, exhale, touch your toes.”

 

Keith had a look of intense concentration.

 

“Breathe through it, Keith.”

 

“Stretch a leg back, good… very good Hunk.”

 

Hunk was amazingly balanced and flexible. “How are you so good at this?” Lance grunted, trying to stretch his back upwards, finding many of the positions awkward thanks to his long limbs.

 

“My mum’s a part-time yoga instructor. I grew up with it.”

 

“Wow, cool.”

 

“Okay, now back your legs up, keeping your feet as flat as possible, back straight… good… this position is called downward-facing dog.”

 

Shiro walked around to press Keith’s back flat, helping him into the position. Keith flattened his back and stared down between his legs to find Lance right behind him, head up, not being subtle at all about checking out his ass.

 

“Head down, Lance,” Shiro admonished.

 

“Right.” Their faces were both red, but they were also bent over so that all the blood was rushing to their heads.

 

“Now bring your right foot forwards again, and then the left… good, forward bend again.”

 

Despite not doing the exercises himself Shiro felt like he was upside down, a strange rushing sound filled his ears and he suddenly had to swallow to keep from gagging.

 

“Now stretch… stretch up agai…” Shiro stopped, unable to prevent his breakfast from filling his mouth. He tried to swallow it back again, a little bit of green drool escaping. He was dizzy. He sat down right away so he wouldn’t faint, pressing his head down between his legs to try to stop his world from spinning quite so much.

 

“Shiro?” Hunk was there in a heartbeat, along with the other two, “Are you okay?”

 

He held up a metallic hand to stop them, “Don’t get close. Call… call Allura.”

 

Keith paged Allura right away, “Allura, we need you here ASAP,” and then they all sat near Shiro on the spongy training floor, waiting.

 

Keith, Lance, and Hunk hovered nervously around their leader, a man who rarely showed any weakness, as he shivered and tried not to vomit. He eventually couldn’t help himself, but Hunk was ready with a wastebasket which Shiro clutched like a lifeline, losing his breakfast into it. It was strange and worrying for them to see Shiro, the strong one, in such a vulnerable state.

 

“Oh, oh my,” she rushed over to Shiro and placed one hand on his back, and used the other to run her fingers through his hair, feeling his forehead, “You’re burning up love.”

 

“Think m’sick.”

 

“I agree,” Allura smiled softly, “Let’s get you to the infirmary.”

 

“I want my own bed,” Shiro grumbled.

 

“I’m sorry, we need to quarantine you.” Allura lifted Shiro easily into her arms bridal-style, he still held the wastebasket tightly, his hands wrapped around it like a life-line. She turned to the other three, “Go shower and change, all of you, I’ll meet you in the lounge once I’ve settled Shiro.”

 

* * *

 

“How’s Shiro?” Hunk asked right away when Allura entered. They had all done as she’d instructed and were watching a cartoon from the 60s to take their mind off it when she entered.

 

“It’s the same virus as Pidge has,” Allura said, “His fever is worryingly high for this early on, but he may have been hiding it, or not realized he was ill.” The later option sounded more like Shiro, he rarely thought of himself.

 

“How is Pidge?” Lance asked.

 

“She’s doing much better, the fever is broken.”

 

“Do you think she’d want to eat?” Hunk asked, “I can cook some soup for her?”

 

“Soup?” Allura asked.

 

“Traditional Earth food for when someone’s under the weather.”

 

“There is no weather on the Castle.”

 

Lance’s palm met his face; Allura was so damned clueless. It was rather cute, although annoying, when they constantly had to explain English idioms.

 

“Under the weather means sick.” Hunk said, “Soup is Earth food for when someone’s sick, it’s hot, mainly liquid, and easy to digest.”

 

“Oh. Yes, I think she would find that comforting. She did ask for the rest of you, and her family, but the quarantine is necessary.”

 

“At least Shiro’s with her now,” said Lance.

 

“That’s true. I want the rest of you to stay away, no one goes near the infirmary or the control rooms, Coran and I will handle those spaces. The training deck is off-bounds until we’ve cleaned it. Hunk, if you can handle food preparation then Coran and I will steer clear of the kitchen areas.”

 

“On it,” Hunk nodded.

 

“Regular training sessions are suspended, please take it easy and do not stress your bodies unduly. Eat well, rest well, and relax.”

 

“Are  _ you _ feeling okay princess?” Lance asked, staring at Allura as if she had grown a second head (which actually come to think of it may have been possible for her).  _ Allura _ was telling them to relax?

 

Allura laughed, “You need to rest and relax to stay healthy.”

 

“No training?” Keith asked, dismayed.

 

“You can if you want, but there’s nothing mandated. We can’t beat Zarkon with our entire team out of commission.”

 

“That sounds more like the Allura we know,” Lance grinned.

 

* * *

 

Of course they had hoped to get away without having to fight and without the flu spreading further. Team Voltron was never that lucky however. 

 

Four days after Shiro had fallen ill they ran into a small Galra contingent. It wasn’t anything huge, but Yellow, Red, and Blue lion were struggling to keep them at bay and away from the castle where Coran and Allura were manning the weaponry.

 

_ <<Damnit Lance, watch where you’re going!>> _ Red’s com came in clear.

 

_ <<Keith, incoming!>> _ Yellow lion moved inwards to take the brunt of a cannon aimed right at him.

 

_ <<Thanks Hunk!>> _

 

Blue began to blast at the small fighters, pursuing them in circles as Yellow and Red dodged heavy fire.

 

_ <<Get back here Lance!>> _ Keith tried. He was trying to be a leader, to keep everyone on track and coordinated, but Lance was not listening at all. It was like he was being intentionally reckless, and that  _ wasn’t fair _ , Keith was supposed to be the reckless one.

 

Quite suddenly Green lion shot into view.  _ <<Hey guys,>> _ Pidge said into the com, her voice wrecked but strong,  _ <<Did you miss me?>> _

 

_ <<Pidge!>> _ Lance cheered.

 

_ <<Good to see you back,>> _ said Keith.

 

_ <<How are you?>> _ asked Hunk.

 

_ <<Better than I’ve been in days,>> _ Pidge replied,  _ <<Let’s kick some Galra ass.>> _

 

_ <<Language!>> _ another voice came onto the com. It was Shiro’s, weak and raspy.

 

_ <<Shiro!>> _ Allura demanded,  _ <<I said Pidge could go out, I did not say you could!>> _

 

_ <<This will be over faster if we form Voltron.>> _

 

She couldn’t argue that point, it would be faster, but she was still mad.  _ <<You are putting yourself at risk, you still have a fever and should be resting!>> _

 

_ <<I’ve had worse,>> _ Shiro grunted. It was true, on the Galra prison ship he’d been forced to fight in the gladiatorial ring in worse condition than he was in now.  _ <<Let’s form Voltron!>> _

 

They formed Voltron, everyone able to sense Shiro’s misery through the link they shared. His Galra arm ached fiercely, as did every other joint in his body, and his life essence,  _ quintessence _ they supposed, was weak and thready. They did nothing fancy, dispatching the small Galra ships with efficiency and ease. The main force had been cut through, destroyed, and a couple of stray fighter ships were gliding away into the distance but Voltron wasn’t moving fast enough to catch them.

 

_ <<Unassemble,>> _ Shiro said, the Black lion breaking free first and headed towards one of the fighter ships.

 

_ <<We got this Shiro!>> _ Keith cried, Red lion blasting ahead of Black to fire at the ship. Black was slowed by her pilot; she sent waves of concern towards Shiro who stayed behind, allowing the young, healthy, paladins to race forward.

 

Keith in Red easily took out the one ship while Blue and Yellow took off after the other, returning shortly. Lance looked disappointed.  _ <<It got away.>> _

 

_ <<Damnit,>> _ Keith swore.

 

_ <<At least we’re all here,>> _ Pidge said,  _ <<Zarkon won’t suspect weakness.>> _

 

_ <<Hopefully,>> _ Shiro muttered, aware of his slowed reaction time and mediocre piloting that day.

 

* * *

 

It was a lonely Altean week that followed (eight quintants) with just the three paladins but they did their best to keep themselves entertained. Pidge was well and soon she was busy helping Coran with the maintenance of the ship while Allura, in a predictable turn of events, fell sick and was being nursed by Shiro.

 

_ <<It’s so gross,>> _ Pidge explained to Hunk into her headset on one of their frequent calls,  _ <<They’re all over each other, but they’re also both oozing bodily fluids, even as they make-out and whatnot. Shiro’s okay but he’s got this nasty hacking cough still. He’s fawning over Allura constantly, and she’s all ‘only if you’re up to it’ and ‘you don’t have to’. Ugh.>> _

 

_ <<Aw, I think it’s sweet,>> _ Hunk replied.

 

_ <<How are you getting along with Romeo and Juliet?>> _ Pidge asked.

 

Hunk sighed,  _ <<It was oddly okay at first, when they were worried about you and Shiro, but now they’re back at it and it’s worse than ever. All they ever do is insult each other until one leaves the room and then the remaining one stares longingly after. It’s driving me crazy.>> _

 

Pidgle cackled,  _ <<That sounds about right. Like the space-flu, it gets worse before it gets better.>> _

 

_ <<I don’t know if I can take it Pidge, there’s no escape!>> _ Hunk sobbed into the comm,  _ <<We only have so many rooms and you can be alone in your room for only so long… and… and I tried to draw the line a while back at delivering messages to each other because ‘they weren’t talking to each other’, I wasn’t getting into the middle of that noise, BUT NOW I HAVE TO BRING THEM MEALS BECAUSE THEY WON’T BE IN THE SAME ROOM TOGETHER.>> _

 

_ <<That sucks.>> _

 

_ <<Hey Pidge,>> _ Hunk said, calming down a few moments later,  _ <<You know that lock-down code we talked about?>> _

 

_ <<Yeah…>> _

 

_ <<Can I have it?>> _ The code would lock down all five paladin quarters, the shared bathing room, and the hallway connecting them all.

 

_ <<Do you think they might go into each other’s rooms and hurt each other?>> _

 

_ <<It’s just in case things escalate, I doubt I’ll need it.>> _

 

_ <<Sure. I’ll send it over,>> _ Pidge said,  _ <<Also Shiro wants to use the kitchen this afternoon to make soup for Allura, he said he’ll disinfect it after.>> _

 

_ <<Aw, that’s cute,>> _ said Hunk.  _ <<Does Coran know? I thought he banned Shiro from the kitchen after the fire.>> _

 

_ <<Coran knows, he’s going to supervise with the fire extinguisher.>> _

 

Hunk laughed,  _ <<Good. I guess I’d better make lunch now so it’s empty for them later. And before Lance goes looking for food or a fight. He gets hangry, not that he’ll admit it.>> _

 

_ <<Have fu~n!>> _ Pidge sing-songed as she shut down the comm.

 

* * *

 

“We should play a game or something,” Hunk suggested after lunch, poking his head into Lance’s room.

 

Lance was laying on his back, stretching his legs up above his head against the wall like he sometimes did. He flopped his head down and gazed back at Hunk, upside down, “I don’t have anything better to do. Will  _ he _ be joining us?”

 

“I was going to invite him, it only seems fair.”

 

“Fair?” Lance sounded hurt, “What about me?”

 

Hunk breathed deeply, mustering up his best ‘call-out-bullshit’ tone, “What  _ about _ you Lance?”

 

“We’re not speaking.”

 

“Well, okay then, just stay here in your room, alone.”

 

Hunk stared at Lance; Lance glared back. In a heartbeat or two Lance sighed, giving in to his friend’s stubbornness, “Fine. But can we just watch a movie or something?”

 

“Sure,” Hunk smiled, “Altean or Earthling? We’ll call Keith once we get to the lounge.”

 

“Can’t go there.”

 

“Oh yeah, quarantine,” Hunk said. The common lounge area connected the bridge, medical bay, and the kitchen, so it was out of bounds at the moment. “How about my room?”

 

“We can just do it here,” Lance shrugged. They had already been playing games in Hunk’s room and, while it was nothing like the wreck that was Pidge’s domain, there was not a lot of space with all of his current engineering projects and all of their games spread out. Besides, Lance was proud of his nest of accumulated pillows and blankets and other soft things from around the galaxy.

 

“Okay. You get it going, I’ll go grab Keith.”

 

Lance stood on his bed and brought down the clear screen from the ceiling by drawing a square with his finger. There was a remote panel for it somewhere but he’d found it easier to adjust the height this way instead of trying to decipher the Altean commands. He began to fiddle with the commands to get the cable going. He could ask Hunk to do it, and it would be faster, but he didn’t want to have to get Keith.

 

Lance set up his stack of blankets and pillows collected from around the castle and the galaxy into a pile on his bed facing the screen. It was a multi-coloured, but mostly blue, nest of cushions and soft, downy alien fur blankets they’d been given.

 

Meanwhile Hunk strode down the hall. The awkwardness of this whole situation was making him nuts. For two people who refused to talk, Lance and Keith really needed to  _ talk _ . Maybe he could just call them out on it in the same way Pidge would.

 

“Keith,” Hunk knocked and then opened the door before waiting for a response, “You need to get out of your forest.”

 

“What?” Keith blinked from his position on the floor mid-crunch.

 

Hunk tried to channel his inner Pidge, “Your pining is visible from space.”

 

“My what?”

 

“Your pine… forest. For Lance.”

 

“What are you talking about Hunk?”

 

He sighed, giving up. Of course Keith didn’t get it, “I mean I’m bored. Do you want to watch a movie or something with me and Lance instead of hiding in here all day?”

 

“I don’t want to see him right now,” Keith was suddenly cold.

 

“Keith, I’m fed up. I’m not taking your bull right now,” Hunk sighed, “Just come sit with us. Please. You two are breaking the team apart, more than it already is. I feel like a kid in a divorce.”

 

That thought hadn’t occurred to him; he’d been an ass to Hunk who was caught in the middle of all of this. Guilt struck him in the gut, “I… didn’t mean for that. I’m sorry.”

 

“So you’ll come?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“I’m getting snacks, meet in Lance’s room in five.”

 

“Where?” Keith sputtered. Why  _ Lance’s  _ room?

 

Hunk was already making his way to the kitchen however.

 

* * *

 

Lance’s nest was magnificent. Not that Keith would admit it. It was comfortable but also supportive, holding them upright at the perfect viewing angle. Hunk had gathered the best movie snacks the galaxy could offer yet again, along with a pot of the strong Altean tea he had come to appreciate and cups for all three of them. Hunk sat in between them as a buffer while they logged into the satellite Earth channel and found an old Batman episode just starting.

 

“Ah yeah, POW!” Lance cheered.

 

“What?” asked Keith.

 

“This is the original Batman,” Lance explained, as if Keith were an idiot, “Just… watch it.”

 

They watched Mr Freeze doing his thing. 

 

“These special effects are lame,” Keith said after a while.

 

“You’re lame!” Lance hissed.

 

“Nice comeback,” Keith rolled his eyes.

 

“It wasn’t meant as one,” Lance said.

 

“Was it a come-on then?” asked Keith.

 

“Come on already,” Hunk muttered under his breath.

 

“What?” Lance squeaked, “No!”

 

“Then what did you mean by that?”

 

“I mean how dare you insult this, it’s classic!”

 

“What is Robin even wearing? It looks like a Christmas elf costume gone wrong.”

 

“At least he’s not a gay with a mullet,” Lance shot back.

 

“Yes I am gay and yes I have a mullet. Is that all you got?” asked Keith, “Your insult game is weak.”

 

“Fight me!” Lance growled.

 

“Make me!” Keith snapped back.

 

Hunk was physically right in the middle of it all. He did not have to put up with this.

 

“STOP! Both of you!” He stood up off the bed, pushing the screen aside, and turned to face them, “This is out of hand. What do you have against each other?”

 

Lance crossed his arms across his chest, “I don’t have anything against Keith except what he has against me.”

 

“What did I ever do to you?” Keith asked.

 

“Whatever it is,” Hunk said, “Whatever  _ this  _ is,” he gestured between the two of them, “It’s ripping the team apart. We can’t afford to be divided with Zarkon at the gates. Our leaders are out of commission right now and it’s just us, so I guess it’s my job to put us back together, but let me tell you, I don’t get paid enough to put up with your crap.”

 

“We don’t really get paid at all,” Lance pointed out, “I mean, there are the parades, but…”

 

“Lance, stop.” Hunk said, “Just listen for once in your life.”

 

“Yeah, listen,” Keith snorted.

 

“And you, Keith, don’t be petty. You’re not above all authority just because you’re a top-notch, oh-so-cool, rebellious space pilot. You need to work on self-reflection.”

 

“Whatever,” Keith rolled his eyes.

 

“Not  _ whatever _ , I’m trying to help.” Hunk said, “It hurts me to see you hurt each other.”

 

“It’s none of your business,” Keith said.

 

“Yeah!” agreed Lance, “What are you doing, trying to play match-maker?”

 

Silence enveloped Lance’s bedroom. The elephant in the room had trumpeted and there was no putting that cat back into that bag.

 

“ _ Come mierda _ ,” Lance slapped his hand to his head, “I’ve been blind.”

 

“You’ve been trying to set us up?” Keith asked, looking hurt, “Without asking us?”

 

“How would I go about asking you anyway?” Hunk said, sinking onto the chair at Lance’s desk and turning to face them. His voice and posture spoke of a guilty-laden softening of stance. “I mean, honestly, what would you say, Lance, if I just approached you one day and asked you if you liked, like  _ liked _ , liked Keith?”

 

“I would tell you that… well, that I’m still trying to figure it out.”

 

“Keith?” Hunk turned to him, “What about you? What would you say if I asked you if you liked Lance as more than a friend?”

 

Keith’s eyes darted around; he felt cornered, “I would tell you that it wasn’t any of your goddamn business.”

 

Hunk sighed, “What if I had done it before all of this… confusion. If I was just asking for curiosity and you didn’t know I would try to set you up?”

 

“Well,” Keith considered this slowly, “I would probably have said then that I had feelings, but he can’t reciprocate because he doesn’t like guys.”

 

“Lance?” asked Hunk, knowing full-well that this was a wrong assumption.

 

“Not true,” Lance said, quietly, “I don’t usually, but I guess I’m bi? Or maybe heteroflexible? I don’t know, something like that. I’m not straight, I just don’t know how to flirt with guys.”

 

“Or women,” Keith muttered.

 

“So do you?” asked Hunk.

 

“Do I what?” asked Lance.

 

“Like Keith.”

 

“ _ Oye, _ Hunk,” Lance said, “Bro. Please. Can you leave us alone for a bit?”

 

“I…” _ wait, What?  _ “Alone?”

 

Keith nodded, “Please.”

 

“Of course,” Hunk was out of the room in a heartbeat. Standing in the doorway he looked back to them, an evil idea occurring to him; he spent too much time around Pidge, but then…

 

Hunk stepped out and quickly punched in the code that would seal Lance and Keith inside of Lance’s room until he entered the code to let them out again. He resolved to not let them out until they demanded it.

 

* * *

 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Lance said gently, tossing half of his pillow nest to the floor so he could stretch out a little more on the bed, “How about if you just lie here?” He patted the empty area next to him.

 

They spent the next eternity silently gazing at one another with understanding and shy hope.

 

Eventually it was Keith who started the questioning. “Have you figured it out yet? Figured out… us,” he clarified.

 

“I don’t know,” Lance said, but his body language betrayed him. He was open to Keith, completely, “I actually haven’t thought of it much.”

 

_ Lies,  _ Keith wanted to scream. Instead he said, “Oh.”

 

“Do you think it would hurt the team?” Lance asked, “If we were together?”

 

“I mean, no more than Shiro and Allura.”

 

“Yeah.” Lance agreed, and then after a moment he said, “Do you know what Coran told me a little while ago?”

 

“What?”

 

“The pilots of Red and Blue have traditionally been lovers. Like, the last paladins who piloted our lions were  _ together _ .”

 

“Oh,” was all Keith said.

 

Lance was frustrated with the lack of response, “I mean… maybe it’s fate or something?”

 

“I don’t believe in fate,” said Keith.

 

“But could we…” Lance struggled. He liked Keith, and Keith liked him, but what would it mean for them to be together? What would it look like? Would that be frowned upon as they roamed the galaxy? Maybe less than on Earth, if indeed the space-faring races were like Alteans whom he’d discovered were entirely unfazed by same-sex relations. But what about the rest of the team? Hunk was fine, but what would Shiro have to say about their effect on the team? What about Voltron, could they still form Voltron with that tension between them… could they do it right now with the tension between them?

 

Lance noticed Keith’s hand laying on the pillow near his face. He reached up and laid his golden hand across it, running his fingers up the pale knuckles and interlocking them gently.

 

They gazed at each other for a good long second, blue eyes meeting lavender grey, before Lance asked, “Can I kiss you?”

 

“Yes,” said Keith, “Yes.”

 

Their lips met harshly in between. They consumed each others mouths as if they were starved; in a way they had been, the endless looks, the tension in the room you could cut with a knife, they had been hungry for each other for too long. After several minutes of this they pulled away, eyes shining.

 

Keith suddenly put a hand to his mouth and began to laugh. It began deep in his body and resonated through his entire being, a giant grin plastered across his face as he laughed hysterically.

 

“What?” asked Lance.

 

Keith couldn’t stop, he kept laughing.

 

“What’s so funny?” Lance demanded angrily.

 

Keith tried to get ahold of himself, “I just… nothing, heh,” Keith continued giggling.

 

“C’mon, seriously Keith.”

 

“Sorry,” Keith was still barely containing his laughter, “I just, we’ve been so stupid.”

 

“Oh… yeah. Heh, I guess we have been. Man, some of the crap I’ve called you…” A grin began to spread across Lance’s face.

 

“So, so stupid.” Keith’s laughter was contagious. Pretty soon Lance joined him and they giggled with each other until they couldn’t breathe.

 

Lance laid his head across Keith’s shoulder, trying to catch his breath, “We’re dumbasses. Stubborn, bull-headed, dumbasses.”

 

“I think we owe the rest of the team an apology, Hunk especially.”

 

“Yeah, probably, Hunk was a bit of an ass too though, trying nto setting us up like that,” Lance paused, “So does this mean that we’re… like… together?”

 

“Yes,” said Keith, kissing Lance cheek tenderly, “We’re together.”

 

“I like that,” Lance said, snuggling towards Keith, “Sleep with me tonight?”

 

Keith drew in a sharp breath.

 

“No! Sorry,” Lance said, “I mean, not like that, not yet? I meant sleep here tonight. Next to me.”

 

“I would like that,” Keith said slowly.

 

It was like a dream. They removed their jackets, pants, gloves, and socks and curled against each other, kissing gently.

 

*** * ***

 

Keith woke significantly later than he was used to. Or rather, he had woken at his usual time, ready for his morning workout, but found himself held down by a warm body. Keith then pinched his arm to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. It hurt; this was real. It was all real. He almost made a joyful yell but couldn’t because he didn’t want to wake Lance. Lance looked like he needed the sleep. Lance was sprawled out across Keith, head on his shoulder, one hand curled tightly around the blankets on his chest and the other wrapped in the waves of his dark hair. The breath against Keith’s neck was hot and damp, slow in peaceful sleep. He gently kissed Lance on the forehead, the skin soft beneath his lips. It was so comfortable and Lance was so warm, like some kind of space heater. Who would have thought for such a small guy he could put out so much warmth? More happy and comfortable than he could ever remember being, Keith went back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Keith woke up a little while later, closer to the time Lance would usually wander into the kitchen if he was left to his own devices. His bladder was getting to an uncomfortable fullness.

 

“Lance?” he said quietly. Lance was burrowed into his side now, curled into a fetal position under the blankets, emanating heat.

 

“C’mon buddy, time to get up,” Keith began to pull the blanket away and Lance grabbed it back violently, wrapping it around himself more tightly.

 

“M’cold,” Lance mumbled pathetically.

 

“No you’re not,” Keith said, “You’re pretty hot actually.”

 

“M’not,” Lance said. He didn’t even rise to the bait of being called ‘pretty hot’ like Keith was sure he would.

 

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” Keith asked, gently pulling down just the top of the blanket so he could peek at Lance’s face, his pointed nose tucked into Keith’s side. A bright flush marked the high angular cheekbone.

 

“Jus’ lemmie sleep,” he said grumpily, turning his face into the space between Keith’s body and the mattress.

 

“Not yet, I think you have a fever,” Keith pulled away from Lance who flopped onto his back with a groan, dragging the blankets up to his neck with him and huddling into them, shivering pathetically.

 

“Is that why I hurt all over?”

 

Keith laid his palm across Lance’s forehead and then compared it against his own; Lance was burning up. A deep frown came over his face, “Body aches are common with fever. What else? How’s your stomach?”

 

“Okay? I mean, I’m not hungry, but I’m not about to hurl.”

 

Keith nodded, “I’m going to get you some ice water from the kitchen and see if anyone is up.”

 

“M’kay,” Lance snuggled back into his blankets.

 

Keith stood up and got dressed. He quickly used the half-bath in Lance’s room, trying to suppress his anxiety the whole time. As he was about to leave a sweaty hand grasped his arm, “Keith?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Thank you for staying.”

  
Keith grinned, “It was my pleasure.”


	4. Love in a Time of Space Flu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith takes extremely good care of Lance. Well, he tries to. ART IN THIS CHAPTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: vomiting and non-sexual nudity ahead. A bit of angst too. ;)
> 
> Cultural details and medical notes are all from the internet because I'm Canadian and not a medical professional. If I get something wrong I'm sorry, I can always edit!

 

*** * ***

 

**Chapter IV: Love in a Time of Space Flu**

 

*** * ***

 

When Keith got to the door he found it locked. He tried to unlock it, pressing the usual code into the system, but it was denied. A red light blinked on the panel. “What?”

 

He tried it again; the same result.

 

“Lance, do you have a code on your room?”

 

“No?”

 

“This is weird,” Keith pressed the open button again and again. It refused to budge. Eventually he tried to strongarm the door open but found that he was not able to.

 

 _ <<Coran?>> _ he pressed up the comm next to the door and called into it, _ <<Coran, I think there’s a glitch with the doors in our rooms?>> _

 

 _ <<What was that number four?>> _ Coran’s voice came through, _ <<A glitch?>> _

 

_ <<They won’t open and I need to get out. Lance is sick.>> _

 

_ <<I will be right there.>> _

 

“This is very odd,” Coran muttered, trying to unlock the door from the outside. Eventually Hunk, hearing the commotion, came out of his room to see what was going on. As soon as he entered the code into his own door to exit his room Lance’s door opened as well.

 

Coran stared at Keith in confusion.

 

“What was that all about?” Keith asked.

 

Hunk hurried over, “Pidge was doing some security stuff earlier, it was probably just a glitch.”

 

“Did you change the codes?” Coran asked Hunk.

 

“Seriously Hunk?” Keith crossed his arms and looked unimpressed, “You locked Lance and I in his room together?”

 

Hunk’s eyes darted around, “Maybe.”

 

“That’s low,” Keith was obviously mad, but there was a more pressing concern, “Coran, I’m glad you’re here. It’s Lance! I was going to find you. He’s not doing so good.”

 

“What? Is he sick?” Hunk asked, rushing to Lance’s bedside. Hunk pressed a hand to Lance’s forehead, the only visible part of him, and gave a low whistle. “Oh yeah.”

 

Should we call Shiro?”

 

“No, he is with the princess, and not doing well. Hunk, stay here, Keith and I will go grab supplies.”

 

Coran sent Keith to the kitchen for water and electrolyte solution while he went to the infirmary. They were barely gone five doboshes.

 

* * *

 

When they entered immediately a bad smell overwhelmed them. Hunk was towelling off his shirt and reassuring Lance, “It’s okay man, I’ve puked around you so many times before.”

 

“But not on me,” Lance groaned. Coran and Keith approached the bed.

 

“Quiznak,” Coran cursed, doing a reading of Lance with his pocket-monitor, “38.8* degrees, I don’t think our quarantine worked as well as I’d hoped.”

 

Keith opened the ice water pouch and allowed Lance to rinse out his mouth and take a few sips.

 

“Sorry I barfed on you Hunk,” Lance was miserable, “And sorry I exposed you too Keith.”

 

“You’ve been exposed as well?” Coran asked Keith.

 

“Um, yes, we…” Keith blushed, “I slept in here last night. The door was locked.”

 

Hunk knew that, but he also hadn’t gotten an angry message from Keith at any point in the night demanding to be let out, so whether or not Keith had known he was locked in up until very recently was unknown but he probably hadn’t tried until that morning.

 

“Hmmm,” Coran murmured, twisting his moustache. “I think perhaps we should forget about the quarantine, the infirmary isn’t terribly big and Pidge wishes to return to her room. But I want you both to start taking my health beverage.”

 

“But Coran…” Hunk whined.

 

“I will check with Allura but I suspect she will support me in this. Pidge may return to her room, but I still need her to continue helping me with the ship, and Shiro and Allura will stay in Allura’s quarters. The princess is recovering well, but Shiro is experiencing a secondary respiratory infection. His time as a prisoner of the Galra seems to have weakened his immune response, not to mention going out and doing battle that one time...”

 

“He’ll be okay though?” asked Hunk, suddenly overwhelmed with concern.

 

“He will be,” Coran nodded, “We have medicine for this sort of thing.”

 

“What do you have for Lance?” Keith asked.

 

“I will send Pidge over with it, as well as your health beverages, for now perhaps you want to shower?” Coran looked to Hunk

 

“Right,” Hunk nodded.

 

“I’m sorry,” Lance said again, breaking into a coughing fit.

 

“Shhh,” Keith soothed, helping him sit up and sip at the water again.

* * *

 

Hunk and Coran left. Alone, Keith sat on the edge of Lance’s bed ran his fingers through the short, damp hair.

 

[](http://s1262.photobucket.com/user/FeyDuBois/media/summerarts_zpsntvng0qw.png.html)

(by summer-arts on tumblr)

 

“You vomited on Hunk?”

 

“Shut up,” Lance said, scowling, “this is embarrassing enough as it is. Do you want me to barf on you?

 

“Shhh, sorry,” Keith said, “Please don’t.”

 

“Keith?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Can you hold me? I’m cold.”

 

“Of course,” Keith stripped off his jacket, pants, and boots again and curled back into bed with Lance. Lance molded into the little spoon position; he was boiling everywhere except the soles of his feet which were freezing as he pressed them against Keith’s shins.

 

Keith was cursing on the inside. He had just gotten Lance as his own and now this, now Lance was vulnerable and shaking and fucking dying for all he knew? Shit. Fuck. Quiznak. Coran had said that Shiro was fine but ‘secondary respiratory infection’ sounded like pneumonia to him and pneumonia could kill. What if Lance succumbed to pneumonia? What if Lance fucking died right here in his arms?

 

 _No._ That wasn’t going to happen.

 

Keith resolved that he was going to be the best damn caregiver the galaxy had ever seen. Lance was the best, he really was, but if Lance was the one in need of care then Keith would go every extra mile he could to make sure he was cared for properly.

 

* * *

 

Pidge eventually showed up at Lance’s room. She didn’t knock but she stood in the open doorway until Keith said, “Come in.”

 

Pidge approached the bed where Keith held Lance, shivering and wrapped in blankets, and laid down a tray on the bedside table.

 

“How is he?” she asked, just above a whisper.

 

Keith sighed, “He’s sick.”

 

“It sucks, but it gets better,” Pidge said, “I have water, tea, a liquid medicine for fever and pain, and something which is basically alien vapo-rub?”

 

“Thank you,” said Keith.

 

“I also have some food, and your medicine.”

 

“Ugh,” said Keith, releasing Lance for a moment so he could sit up and actually look at the tray, “Seriously?”

 

Pidge nodded, handing Keith the cup of recognizable neon liquid, “Coran and Allura insisted. I wouldn’t cross Allura at the moment, she’s strung pretty high with Shiro and all.”

 

“Fine,” Keith sighed and downed the cup like a shot, cringing afterwards.

 

“Pretty gross?” Pidge asked.

 

Keith nodded.

 

“Try the goo porridge,” Pidge suggested and so Keith grabbed a spoon and took a few bites of the food. It was sweet and refreshing going down, something like a kiwi combined with an orange.

 

“Mmm,” Keith mumbled, the citrus sharp cutting the bitterness of the medicine promptly.

 

“Better?”

 

“Yeah,” said Keith, taking a few more eager bites, trying to satiate his hunger quickly so he could get back to Lance.

 

“I’ll be helping Coran,” announced Pidge, “Shiro’s still… well, Allura’s busy with him, but I’ve also already had this bug, so let me know if you need _anything_ at all.”

 

“I will,” Keith nodded, “I’m going to be a great care-taker,” he swore, “The best Lance has ever had.”

 

“Besides his mom, of course,” added Pidge.

 

“Better than his mom.”

 

Pidge looked at Keith doubtfully, “If you say so.”

 

* * *

 

Keith was a mess.

 

It was late afternoon since he’d woke up next Lance and he didn’t know what to do.

 

Lance was a shivering, sweaty, sickly, mess. Keith had no idea what he was supposed to do with Lance right now. Pidge had left him with a symptom monitor and he knew that Lance’s fever had been rising, slowly but steadily, for the past hour, but he vehemently refused to take the medicine, or even drink water for fear of vomiting it back up again. Dehydration and a temperature over 40 Celsius were the main concerns Pidge had voiced, and Keith felt that both were coming on quickly. In desperation he paged Hunk to come to the room.

 

“Yes?” Hunk entered Lance’s room, the lights dim, hesitantly, as if he was invading a private moment.

 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Keith admitted.

 

“What do you mean?” Hunk asked, coming to sit next to Keith on the bed where Lance was curled away from them beneath a mountain of blankets.

 

“He won’t take his medicine or drink anything, nevermind eat.”

 

“Ah,” said Hunk, “You might have to force him.”

 

“What do you mean force?”

 

“Like, make him do it.”

 

“How?” asked Keith.

 

“Lance?” Hunk prodded the blanket mass, “Are you alive under there?”

 

“Noooo…” came the pathetic response.

 

“Keith says you haven’t taken your meds.”

 

“Don’t wanna, taste bad.”

 

“You haven’t even tried it yet,” Keith said.

 

“Coran made it,” Lance’s face wasn’t visible but they could hear the pout.

 

“You need to take it Lance,” Hunk said, “Or else.”

 

“Or else what?”

 

“I’ll force it down your throat,” said Hunk.

 

“You wouldn’t.”

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

Lance coughed in response.

 

Keith shrugged helplessly. He had already had this conversation a half dozen times.

 

Hunk squared his shoulders and set to it. He grabbed the top of the blanket and pulled hard, before Lance had a moment to grab at them.

 

“Nooooo!” Lance squealed, dragging the sheets around his body desperately.

 

“Come on,” Hunk said.

 

“Don’wanna.”

 

“Too bad, you gotta.”

 

Hunk wrestled the sheet out of Lance’s trembling, hot fingers and then sat on his waist, pinning him to the bed. He held Lance’s skinny wrists down firmly against the mattress as he flailed and looked pathetic, coughing constantly.

 

“Hu-unk…” he hacked, “Stop.”

 

“Keith, quickly,” Hunk said, using an elbow to pin Lance’s left arm while his hand pinched the pointed nose, “the medicine.”

 

“Right, sorry about this,” Keith said, scooping up the small cup of medicine.

 

They waited a moment, then another, and Lance, stubborn, but desperate for oxygen, opened his mouth for just a moment.

 

Keith quickly dumped the contents of the cup into his mouth and then held the jaw shut.

 

Lance glared at him with poorly concealed rage, the blue eyes dull yet burning. He swallowed and Keith promptly let go so he could cough and make gagging noises. Hunk let him go as well and Lance sat up.

 

“Here,” Keith handed him a packet of juice.

 

Lance drank like a man dying of thirst.

 

“Slowly, slowly,” said Hunk, “If you throw it up we’ll have to do it all again.”

 

Lance finished and then flopped back down, his voice broken, “I hate you both.”

 

“Don’t you want to get better?” asked Keith.

 

“I wanna die.”

 

“Aw, Lance,” said Hunk, “Do you remember that time at the Garrison when we all had H1N5? You said that then too.”

 

“This is worse.”

 

“No way.”

 

“It is.”

 

“You have Keith here to nurse you,” said Hunk, “Don’t insult his skills by dying in his care.”

 

Lance poked his head out from under the covers and stared at Keith for a moment before rasping out, “He needs a sexy nurse costume.”

 

“In your dreams,” said Keith.

 

“At least he’s still himself,” Hunk said to Keith, “Can I get you anything else to help? Food? Pyjamas from your room? How about some cool water and a washcloth?”

 

“Um…” said Keith, “Sure. I don’t have pyjamas but the others sound good.”

 

“Okay,” said Hunk, patting Keith on the shoulder on his way out, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

 

“You’ve betrayed me,” Lance said weakly, “I hate you.”

 

“You needed your medicine,” Keith said, “Your fever is getting high.”

 

“Yeah, well…” Lance tossed the sheet off himself.

 

“Here,” Keith pulled it back up, along with the blanket which he rescued from the floor.

 

“No no no,” Lance shoved and kicked it all to a ball at the bottom of the bed, struggling to untangle himself until Keith helped him extract his long legs, “Too hot.”

 

“I thought you were cold?”

 

“That was before.”

 

Keith sighed and cupped Lance’s face gently, tilting it so he could look at him closely, taking in the pale skin and bright cheeks.

 

“What?”

 

“I’m worried.”

 

“I’ll be okay Keith,” Lance sighed, “Honestly. It’s just the flu.”

 

“Shiro’s got pneumonia, this kind of thing can kill. What if Zarkon attacks now?”

 

“I’ll kick his butt is what’ll happen,” Lance said, fiercely.

 

Lance had almost lost a fight against a sheet moments ago. Keith chuckled, “If you say so.”

 

Lance huffed and then, “Hold me?”

 

“Of course,” Keith crawled in behind Lance and spooned him gently. They had only just found each other and now this? There was no way Keith was going to let some stupid space flu take Lance from him, but this wasn’t an enemy he could fight in the ways he was used to. You couldn’t just stab a virus or let it out an airlock to suffocate in the void of space (at least not once it was inside of someone), it didn’t work that way.

 

* * *

 

“I wonder what’s happening in there,” Hunk fretted in the hallway outside of Lance’s room after he dropped off the supplies. Pidge was there waiting for him so they could go to the engineering lab together.

 

“Keith is probably getting barfed on.”

 

“Gross,” Hunk grimaced, opening the door for Pidge who was carrying armloads of junk from her room. “I meant romantically.”

 

“Keith is getting romantically barfed on.”

 

“Pidge,” Hunk sighed. “It’s just… they only sorta got together the day before yesterday I think? I don’t know, I mean, Keith slept in there, and now he won’t leave Lance’s side, and Lance wants him in a sexy nurse outfit, but he’s delirious? I know what it looks like, but I don’t want to assume anything either.”

 

“So what?” said Pidge, “They’re together or on their way to being together. Why do you need to know?”

 

“I just want to.”

 

“Fine,” Pidge dropped her load of tech components on the workbench and began to rifle through them. She held up a thick black wire, “I think I can hack the security feed from Lance’s room.”

 

“Pidge, no.”

 

“Okay, keep your moral integrity. Did you drink the crap Coran brought you?”

 

“Yes,” Hunk stuck out his tongue. It was stained neon green.

 

“Good.”

 

“I still wanna know,” Hunk said with a huff, “Are they together or aren’t they?”

 

Pidge just shrugged, “Schrodinger’s romance. I’m not opening that box.”

 

* * *

 

The night passed by uneventfully, but the next day Lance was worse.

 

Even when Keith managed to get medicine into him it came back up again, as did all the fluids he had managed to get down.

 

Language was starting to get difficult for him and he seemed only half focused most of the time. Keith hadn’t showered or changed and only ate and drank when Hunk came by and forced him to. Hunk had shown up with dinner and Allura in tow. It had been a few days since they had seen Allura and she looked tired, but otherwise okay.

 

“Hello,” she smiled cautiously at Keith, as if he were an animal on the defensive, “May I sit here?”

 

Keith stood and allowed Allura to sit on the bed next to Lance. Gently she brushed the hair away from his forehead and laid her hand across, gauging not only his temperature but also getting an overall reading of his physical condition through her Altean senses. She exhaled slowly, pulling her hand away, brow creased with worry.

 

“ _Mami_?” Lance asked brokenly, staring at her blurily.

 

“Hush,” she said, “You’re okay Lance. Do you know where you are?”

 

“ _Es… estoy..._ ” he frowned, “My room. In the castle.”

 

“Very good.”

 

“Keith?” he asked right away.

 

“I’m here,” Keith was there in an instant, “You’re sick.”

 

“Space flu,” Lance nodded.

 

“That’s right. Do you think you can drink some medicine?” Hunk asked.

 

Lance grimaced, “No.”

 

“I’m going to do something for you Lance,” Allura said, “Don’t tell Coran, he’s a chicken-mother, but I’m going to heal you a bit.”

 

“Princess,” Lance said, “You don’t have to.”

 

“I’ve already done it a few times for Shiro, it’s fine, it won’t take much energy.”

 

“Okay, what do I do?” Lance asked.

 

“Just… close your eyes and imagine a place where you feel safe.”

 

“Okay,” said Lance. He shut his eyes and leaned back into the pillows. Allura’s cool, soft hands rested on his forehead and chest.

 

Where did he feel safe?

 

Suddenly he was sitting in his _abuela_ s kitchen. The walls were stained yellow from smoke and age but the window was open and there was the smell of sea salt and years of cigarellos and meals. She was bent over the circa 1960 electric stove mixing _picadillo_ and humming while Maria was at the table, bent over her homework. Suddenly Lance’s _mama_ came in, balancing a tiny baby Tony on her hip and talking excitedly about the neighbours new van and their old one was a wreck, but they needed it for their market business, and oh, did _abuela_ need help with dinner? What’s that smell? Oh, she was making _picadillo_ , there was a can of olives somewhere in the cupboard… with a grin Lance’s _mama_ passed Tony to Lance who held the tiny child in his lap, careful to support his neck and head, while she dug around for the olives. Tony woke and gazed sleepily up at Lance with eyes the dark blue of a very young infant. He smacked his lips together and gurgled, a stream of milky saliva trailing down his chin which Lance gently wiped away with his sleeve.

 

Lance’s body felt suddenly hot all over and then a cool breeze swept through the window at the same time as his _abuela_ turned to him and asked, “Do you want a _jupina_ with dinner?” She went to the fridge to pull out his favourite pineapple soda.

 

“ _Mama!_ ” his mother exclaimed, “Too much sugar! His teeth are going to rot.”

 

“He’s been sick,” _abuela_ argued.

 

Lance laughed, “I’ll share it with Maria?”

 

“Fine,” she sighed, relenting, “Half a can each. Mix it with water.”

 

Lance’s _abuela_ winked at him, opening two cans and filling two red plastic cups full of _jupino_ while his mother’s back was turned, one for both him and his sister. She set it in front of him and he took a long sip, feeling his body cooling, energy returning to his limbs.

 

Lance opened his eyes back to the castleship and his friends, gathering around him, looking worried, with the taste of fizz and pineapple still on his lips.

 

* * *

 

Allura pulled her hands off of Lance and right away Keith was there, nearly pushing Allura away from him, “Do you feel better? Are you cured?”

 

“I’m not that good Keith,” Allura said, “His fever should be lower though, and perhaps his nausea is better?”

 

Keith’s hands rushed onto Lance’s body, feeling it, trying to gauge. “I can’t tell, maybe he’s a little cooler? Where’s my thing…” Keith fumbled around frantically until he pulled out the small symptom monitor and scanned Lance again, frowning, “It’s hardly gone down at all.”

 

“Give it time to work,” Allura said.

 

“Chill,” Hunk agreed, “We can give him some medicine now and that’ll help.”

 

Lance didn’t put up a big fuss this time around, and he drank down the juice thirstily in small sips, pretending it was pineapple flavoured. If he didn’t think too hard about it he could imagine it.

 

“Are you ready to eat?” Hunk asked.

 

“He needs to eat,” Keith asserted.

 

Lance seemed uncertain, “I don’t want to risk it just yet.”

 

“Okay,” Hunk nodded. “But if you feel improved in the morning you’re eating breakfast.”

 

“But you need to eat,” Keith insisted, scowling at Lance.

 

“It’ll be no use if he throws up the medicine and the liquid,” Allura pointed out.

 

“Don’t forget yours!” Hunk said, passing the cup of preventative to Keith, “And I brought you dinner. You’d better eat it.”

 

Mentally Keith knew that he had to eat, but he had trouble imagining doing it when Lance was in this state. He was worried, frantic even. Without thinking he tossed back the preventative and put the dinner tray on the desk, “I’ll have it later.”

 

“Keith?” Allura said, “Come with me into the hall for a moment please?”

 

“But…”

 

“Hunk is staying here.” Indeed Keith saw Hunk talking to Lance, apparently about comfort food back home, asking what he might like to have tomorrow. If he could have anything Lance wanted _picadillo_ , but clearly that wasn’t happening so Hunk was trying to figure out what he could make that would be similar. He also suggested a sort of space oatmeal Coran had pulled out, apparently a traditional Altean comfort food, which Pidge and Shiro had responded well to.

 

Keith reluctantly followed Allura into the hallway. He leaned against the wall, realizing he hadn’t left that room in nearly fifty vargas.

 

“I know you’re worried,” Allura said, “We all are.”

 

“I’m not… Lance is just. He’s…”

 

“It is alright,” Allura said, “You’re allowed to be worried, but he’s going to be just fine. So is Shiro, it was touch and go for a bit there and I was very concerned for him, but he’s recovering now. I know what it’s like.”

 

Keith eyed Allura. What did she know? It felt like she was looking straight through his body into his soul. Her energy, her aura, however, was one of acceptance and reassurance.

 

Gracefully she took his hands into hers, “I promise you, with care Lance will be fine. You’re doing a good job looking after him.”

 

“It sure doesn’t feel like it.”

 

“I know,” she said, a bittersweet smile in her voice, “I know exactly what that feels like.” And Keith knew that she did, that she had been through this with Shiro mere days before, worse even from the sound of it.

 

“Take care of yourself Keith,” Allura said as he went back into Lance’s room.

 

“I will,” Keith said.

 

“Good.”

 

* * *

 

Keith was trying. Lance’s fever had indeed gone down after the medicine and whatever it was Allura had done earlier but it was late now, the wee vargas of the castle’s day-night cycle, and Lance was burning up again. He wasn’t sweating any more, it was all dry heat even as he shivered violently beneath the covers. Keith added more blankets.

[](http://s1262.photobucket.com/user/FeyDuBois/media/sabertoothwalrus_zpsxkrcdvjk.png.html)

(by sabertoothwalrus on tumblr) 

 

A few hours ago Keith had been napping fitfully but now he was wide awake, patting Lance’s forehead down with a cool cloth. The cloth warmed up almost instantly on the hot skin. Keith was starting to panic. Lance was entirely unresponsive except for the occasional twitch. Despite the shivering Keith mentally knew he was supposed to let Lance cool down, but he couldn’t bring himself to remove the covers. Suddenly Lance went rigid in his arms, his body seizing, arms and legs straight and stiff. He began to shake violently.

 

“Lance?!” Keith cried in a panic, “Lance, what’s the matter?”

 

Lance was having a seizure, Keith realized. “Shit,” he swore, not knowing what to do.

 

Quickly he pressed a button on the commlink, “Shiro?” but then remembered he was with Allura. He had never used the large white button before but he pressed it, “Shiro? Allura? I need you right now, it’s Lance, he’s seizing. I don’t know what to do.” Keith knew he sounded desperate, panicked, and very unlike himself, but he honestly was freaking the hell out. Lance could be dying in his arms right now!

 

“We’ll be right there,” Allura’s voice was reassuring and commanding.

 

Keith held Lance gently, not wanting to hurt him but also not wanting him to fall off the bed, and slowly, gradually, the shaking quieted down.

 

Lance whimpered and then his body relaxed in Keith’s arms.

 

“Lance?” Keith asked, stroking his forehead.

 

“Mmm… Keith?”

 

Keith sighed in relief, “You’re okay.”

 

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

“You don’t remember?”

 

Just then Shiro and Allura burst into the room, ready for action.

 

“Lance?” Allura asked, coming right up to them and climbing onto the bed to examine him, regardless of any usual personal boundaries and the fact that she was wearing a nightgown.

 

Allura immediately placed a hand on his forehead and closed her eyes, examining him.

 

“You’re burning,” she frowned.

 

Lance yawned, “Mmm.”

 

Shiro was wearing what was obviously one of Allura’s robes tossed over his sleepwear. The purple satin would be funny if the situation wasn’t so serious. “He had a seizure?” he asked Keith.

 

“I think so, he went all rigid and was shaking and then stopped and then he woke up.”

 

Shiro nodded, “Could be a fever seizure.”

 

“I haven’t had one of those in years,” Lance said.

 

“You’ve had them before?”

 

“I get them when I’m really sick, have since I was a tiny baby.”

 

Shiro sighed in relief, “So this is fairly normal for you?”

 

Lance nodded, “I guess.”

 

Allura nodded to agree, removing her hands from Lance’s forehead, “He is fine besides the temperature.”

 

“Why does he have so many blankets?” Shiro asked Keith.

 

“He was shivering, said he was cold.”

 

“It’s too many,” Shiro said, starting to pull them off and dump them in a pile at the foot of the bed, “He needs to cool off, even if it’s  uncomfortable.”

 

“Shiro,” Lance whinned.

 

“It’s for your own good.”

 

“I’m going to try to help him again,” Allura said.

 

“Are you sure?” asked Shiro.

 

“I’ll be fine,” Allura reassured him, “Can you… I think Keith needs a break?” she hinted lightly.

 

“Right,” said Shiro, “Let’s go get some water for Lance, and tea for us.”

 

“But…”

 

“Keith,” Shiro’s tone was commanding. It was only now that Keith realized how wrecked Shiro’s voice was, although he still managed to sound like his CO somehow.

 

“Yessir.”

 

They walked quietly to the kitchen and Shiro began pulling out packets of water and the electrolyte solution they’d been using to prevent dehydration. He then pressed a button on a machine that would brew up the Altean tea. Shiro always made it strong enough to be slightly bitter, but it would help them stay awake and clear-headed.

 

“I know you’re worried about Lance,” Shiro began.

 

“Shiro,” Keith said, sounding small and broken, “I thought he was dying right then and there. I care about him… I… we...”

 

“You don’t have to say it,” Shiro clapped Keith on the shoulder, “I know. It was obvious to all of us.”

 

“Oh,” Keith bit his lip, “It seemed like everyone knew… except me and Lance.”

 

Shiro chuckled lightly, “That’s how it goes.”

 

“But Shiro, what if… what if Lance doesn’t… if he doesn’t get better.”

 

“He will,” Shiro said, “He will be just fine. Everyone else has recovered, don’t worry so much.”

 

“Don’t tell me not to worry,” Keith snapped, “He had a fucking seizure.”

 

“It’s not ideal,” Shiro agreed, “You have every right to be worried. I’m worried too, but the outlook is good so all we can do is take care of him. If he’s had them before it’s probably quite normal for him.”

 

“I’m doing a bad job of this care-taking thing. He probably wouldn’t have seized if I hadn’t piled on so many blankets… I, it’s my fault.”

 

“No no,” said Shiro, “Don’t start that. You didn’t know.”

 

“I should have known. I’m so bad at this, I’ve never had to take care of anyone else in my life! I mean, I’ve killed every houseplant I’ve ever owned.”

 

“Lance is more resilient than a potted fern.”

 

“I just…” Keith leaned up against the counter and sighed.

 

Shiro coughed, a phlegmy sound with a sharp wheeze at the end. Then he dropped a cube of sweetener into Keith’s mug, gave it a quick stir, and pressed the drink into his hands, “It’ll be okay.”

 

Keith sighed, “I hope so.”

 

“Have you been eating? Sleeping? Taking your disgusting potion?”

 

“Yes,” Keith said.

 

“You’d better not be lying,” Shiro said, taking in the bags under Keith’s eyes.

 

Keith had been when he remembered to do those things, admittedly sometimes he’d been too worried and had forgotten.

 

“Let’s go back,” Shiro said, gathering the drinks onto a floating tray. He had a mug for Allura as well as himself, along with Lance’s beverages and a bowl of ice water.

 

Keith followed, carrying his own mug and sipping.

 

Lance seemed more alert when they returned, relaxed. Keith pressed a hand to his forehead and found him still hot, although he couldn’t tell if it was more or less than before since he’d been holding his hot drink. At least his colour was slightly better.

 

Allura accepted the mug from Shiro and Keith opened the pouch of sugary-salty liquid and handed it to Lance who took a few small sips.

 

“I think a shower or soak might be a good idea for you Lance,” Allura said.

 

“I feel filthy, that’d be nice.”

 

“The showers are closer than the pool. Keith, can you help him? Or would you rather Shiro do it?”

 

Shiro looked exhausted as it was. He was much better than he had been from what he’d heard from Coran and Allura, but his breath still rattled strangely with each exhale.

 

“I’ll do it,” said Keith decisively.

 

Of course they had showered together before. The Altean showers were more or less open to each other (which explained why Pidge had insisted on showering only very late at night alone), but this would also involve holding Lance. In the shower. _Naked._

 

“It’ll have to be a cool shower,” Allura recommended.

 

“Nooo,” Lance whined, “I’m cold already.”

 

“More like lukewarm,” amended Shiro.

 

“Trust me, you are not cold,” Allura said, “Keith will make sure you are safe and do it properly.”

 

“Of course,” Keith drained the last of his mug. He stood up and began rifling through Lance’s dresser for clean pyjamas and a towel.

 

“Do you need help getting there?” asked Shiro.

 

“I’ve got him,” Keith said, noticing how Shiro’s breathing was laboured already from their trip to the kitchen.

 

“I’ll carry him there at least,” said Allura, hoisting Lance easily into her arms.

 

Lance was still Lance and he gazed up at Allura dreamily, “My heroine.”

 

Keith followed behind with the towels and clean clothes in his arms, and Shiro shuffling in the rear, trying to cough discreetly.

 

Allura set Lance on the bench in the shower room and let him rest against the wall. She stood straight and nodded at Keith, “Call us if you need any help getting him back to his room?”

 

“I will,” Keith said.

 

Allura and Shiro left. It was impossibly late and dark in the castle and Keith was exhausted and alone in the shower with a quiet Lance. It could have been a dream come true if it weren’t for the reason they were there. Keith looked down at Lance, his flushed cheeks and hunched shoulders. He could handle this; he had to do this, for Lance to get better.

 

“Alright bud,” said Keith, crouching down, “Let’s get ready.” He stripped away Lance’s fuzzy socks, his bulky sweater, and his shirt. Lance was down to his pyjama bottoms and Keith paused there, blushing furiously. He knew Lance didn’t wear anything underneath.

 

“Somehow I imagined you stripping me under different circumstances,” Lance said with a suave smirk, “I can get them off myself, you do you.”

 

Lance hefted himself upright and laboriously worked his fingers under his waistband and pulled his pyjama pants down, kicking them off his feet.

 

Keith meanwhile stood up and stripped off his t-shirt, pants, belt, shoes, and socks. He glanced over at Lance and with a furious blush also slid off his underwear, stomping them onto the pile with the rest of his clothes.

 

He felt naked. Well, he was naked. Lance, despite his delirious state, took in Keith’s body appreciatively and obviously, “Nice abs.”

 

Keith rolled his eyes, “You’ve seen it all before. Let’s go get clean.”

 

“Did you bring my shampoo?” asked Lance, “Conditioner? Facewash? Bodywash?”

 

“I have a bar of soap in here,” said Keith.

 

“Nonono,” Lance said, “Can you go back to my room? There’s a blue bag hanging next to the door?”

 

“We’re just showering,” Keith sighed.

 

“Please?”

 

Those damned puppy eyes would be the death of him. Keith sighed, “Fine.” He wrapped his towel around his waist. “Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

 

“Thank you,” Lance said.

 

* * *

 

Keith quickly retrieved the bag Lance had directed him to, a heavy mesh sack which clanked with the bottles inside, and returned to the showers.

 

Lance was leaning against the wall, clutching Keith’s jacket over his shoulders. He opened his weary eyes when he saw Keith. “I’m reconsidering, can we just go back to bed?”

 

“Not after I went all the way back to get your damn soap,” Keith said, “C’mon, let’s get cleaned up.”

 

Keith gently removed the jacket from Lance’s shoulders and laid it with the rest of his clothes before helping the blue paladin stand, one long brown arm draped over his shoulders. He sat Lance down on the small stool in the shower stall, similar to Japanese showers he’d seen in anime, and pulled the nozzle off the wall. It started warm right away as soon as he grabbed it, a vast improvement over Earth showers, but he adjusted it to a significantly cooler temperature.

 

Lance yelped as soon as the water touched his overheated skin, “Cold!”

 

Keith, kneeling on the sloped floor, readjusted the dial so it was lukewarm, holding his own hand under it to gauge. He then began running the water over Lance’s back again. Lance still shivered but he accepted this willingly and quietly.

 

The lights were not on full brightness but, although Keith was glad the dimness hid his body a little bit, it only further enhanced the enticing play of light and water over Lance’s skin as he was washed. Keith moved around Lance to wash him from all sides and then pulled out the shampoo. “You want your hair washed?”

 

“Oh yes,” Lance said eagerly.

 

Keith soaked down Lance’s short hair and then poured a bit of goop out the bottle Lance had written ‘shampoo’ on into his hand. It was of a similar texture to soap on Earth, but the smell was entirely different. He began to work it into Lance’s hair.

 

Lance almost purred with the contact. The shampoo fizzed up into orange foam and Keith rubbed it all over like he would do with his own.

 

“So where exactly did you get all this stuff?” he asked.

 

“Allura,” Lance said as Keith began to rinse the shampoo from his hair, “Surprisingly Altean hair care is similar to Earth, although I’ve had to improvise with a few things from the kitchen for my skin.”

 

Keith nodded, “I see. Which one is your soap?”

 

“Conditioner first.”

 

“Conditioner?”

 

Lance snorted and then broke into a coughing fit. Once that died down he turned around to face Keith and began to rifle through his bag, “Keith? What? How have you not ever even heard of conditioner? _iDios mio_ , your poor hair.”

 

Lance pulled out a large clear bottle containing a milky substance labelled ‘conditioner’. “I’ll apply my own while you wash your hair, okay?”

 

“Are you sure you’re up for that?”

 

“Mhmm,” Lance nodded, “I can do this routine in my sleep.”

 

Keith soaked his own hair, turning it up a little bit because he prefered his showers borderline scalding, and then worked the shampoo in, all the while watching Lance carefully in case he should need help as he applied the conditioner. He rinsed the shampoo and then turned the water down, offering the shower nozzle to Lance, “Do you want me to rinse or can you do it?”

 

“Oh, no, I’m going to leave it in while I do yours and wash up. The longer it stays in your hair the better.”

 

“I see,” Keith said. Lance grinned and got off the stool, gesturing for Keith to sit down while he kneeled.

 

Keith did, letting Lance work the conditioner into his hair starting at the ends and working his way up to the roots. Suddenly Keith understood why people got hair washed at salons and paid extra for it, this felt great. He couldn’t help a little moan from escaping his lips.

 

“Feels nice, yeah?” Lance asked.

 

“It does.”

 

They were finishing up when Lance’s energy started to flag. Keith was rinsing the last of the conditioner from Lance’s hair when he doubled over in a coughing fit, grasping at the wall for support. “Easy, easy,” Keith said, tossing an arm around Lances shoulders to help him stay upright and then to help him stand up. Keith wrapped Lance up in a towel and set him on the bench while he cleaned up the soaps and put them back into his bag and then came back to dry himself off and tie a towel around his waist.

 

“These should be dry,” Keith pressed the clean pyjamas into Lance’s hands. “Do you need help?”

 

Lance seemed dazed. He was looking at Keith’s bare chest and arms.

 

“Hello? Lance? You home?”

 

“Yeah,” Lance had a dreamy smile, “I’m just happy.”

 

Keith shouldered the shampoo bag and scooped Lance into his arms.

  
Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s shoulders and pecked him on the cheek, “My hero.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *38.8 Celcius = 101.8 Fahrenheit
> 
> mami: mommy  
> estoy: I am  
> abuela: grandmother  
> picadillo: Cuban comfort food, a stew made of ground beef and tomatoes, usually with olives and raisins added  
> iDios mio: oh my God
> 
> Next chapter should be out Sunday night!


	5. 50 First Quiznaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk is the latest victim to the space flu but he still doesn't know the answer to whether or not Schrödinger's romance is alive or not and it's driving him up the wall. The meaning of the word quiznak is revealed!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm a day late, RL got busy, but here ya go!

 

*** * ***

 

**Chapter V: 50 First Quiznaks**

 

*** * ***

 

It was hard to say if it was Keith’s tender ministrations, Allura’s healing, the virus running its natural course, or a combination of all three, but the very next day Lance’s fever broke and he looked upon Keith with finally lucid blue eyes and whined, “Keith, I’m hungry.”

 

Elsewhere, at the very same moment, problems were just beginning for Hunk.

 

“38.2 Celsius,” Pidge announced, frowning down at the scanner, and then at Hunk where he was laid out on the couch.

 

“Goddamnit,” Hunk moaned.

 

“It’s not bad yet. That’s like 100.8 in Fahrenheit.”

 

“Urgh.”

 

“Lance did puke on you,” she pointed out, “Cool that an alien race like the Alteans have the same sensibilities as most of the world and use Celsius. I mean, zero is water freezing, one hundred is water freezing. What could be simpler? America’s got it all wrong...”

 

“I thought maybe Coran’s ‘health beverage’ had worked,” Hunk said.

 

Pidge shrugged, “Maybe it’ll be a milder case because you’ve been taking that crap?”

 

“I’m not taking it any more. I’m already nauseous.”

 

“Fair.”

 

“I wonder what’s going on between Lance and Keith right now,” Hunk said, turning onto his side with a groan, “They look like they’re together but I don’t know.

 

“Hunk,” Pidge sighed, “Just leave it alone my man. They’re fine.”

 

“Now I’ll never know. Because clearly I’m dying.”

 

“Clearly,” Pidge rolled her eyes, “You’ll be fine.”

 

“What if they’re just together because Keith feels obliged to take care of Lance because Lance has been fixing his injuries?”

 

“I don’t think so,” Pidge said, “Keith has managed to stick it out and we both know what Lance can be like.”

 

“Yeah, true,” Hunk agreed. Sick Lance was a whiney, cuddly, octopus-like creature. Keith must have spent the past several quintants in Lance’s bed snuggling with him and forcing care upon him; it would wear down even Shiro’s patience. Frankly, Hunk was glad it wasn’t him in Keith’s shoes.

 

* * *

 

Now that Lance was feeling better he was getting really annoying. To say Keith was fed up was an understatement, but the memory of the fear when Lance lay unresponsive in his arms was too near so he fulfilled the requests, no matter how outlandish, without complaint. However, the disrupted sleep-schedule and constant worry were taking a toll on him. It was two days after Lance had announced he was hungry, announcing that he was at last feeling slightly better, and Keith was beyond tired. Apparently the better Lance felt the more demanding he was.

 

Keith was in the kitchen fixing up yet another cup of tea for Lance because the last one wasn’t sweet enough, and besides, it was too cold by the time Lance went to drink it. He dumped out the cold tea and put the mug back under the machine, pressing the buttons and waiting for it to dispense while he stretched out. He had managed to get in a couple of workouts while Lance was asleep, but mandatory training wasn’t back in full-swing yet, with half the team still down, and his body felt stiff and unresponsive.

 

Suddenly Keith was overcome with a dizzy spell. He clutched the countertop and fought it, although he knew logically that the best thing to do was to bring his body nearer to the floor in case he did faint.

 

Keith’s body hit the floor, his head striking the countertop on the way down, and then he didn’t move.

 

* * *

 

It was a good twenty doboshes before anyone found him. Fortunately it was Shiro coming in for a snack but stopping right away when he saw Keith, collapsed in a heap of limbs on the cold floor.

 

“Keith?” he lifted the red paladin into his lap, stroking the dark hair away from where a cut was bleeding sluggishly.

 

“Are you with me Keith?”

 

“Shi-ro?” Keith’s eyes opened slowly.

 

“There you are,” Shiro sighed in relief, “What happened?”

 

“I was getting tea for Lance and I got dizzy.”

 

“Okay,” Shiro felt his forehead with the back of his non-Galra hand, “You don’t feel feverish, but let’s get you to bed and then I’ll bring the first-aid kit and some ice for your head.” 

 

“Mhmm,” Keith murmured, allowing Shiro to help him into a standing position. He still held the countertop lightly to steady himself, “What about Lance’s tea?”

 

“He can get his own tea,” Shiro said with annoyance, “C’mon, I’ll carry you there.”

 

Shiro went to lift Keith into his arms but Keith pulled away, “No, I’m not an invalid Shiro, I can walk.”

 

“There’s no shame in it Keith,” Shiro said gently, “Allura was packing me around like a sack of potatoes for a week.”

 

Keith frowned, “Can I just… have a hand?”

 

“Sure,” Shiro quickly detached his Galra hand from the wrist and offered it to Keith.

 

Keith looked at him unimpressed, “You’ve been saving that one, haven’t you?”

 

“For longer than you know,” Shiro grinned, popping it back in. He offered Keith a shoulder to lean on and slowly walked him back to the dormitory.

 

Keith stopped outside of Lance’s room instead of going the rest of the way down the hallway to his own room. Shiro stopped with him as he pressed the opening buttons and walked into Lance’s room as if on autopilot.

 

“About time,” Lance bitched, “How long does it take you to make a cup of tea.”

 

“Lance,” Shiro said sternly, “Keith needs a break.”

 

“Keith?” Lance took a moment to look his boyfriend over, taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the way he leaned against the doorframe.

 

“ _ Coño, _ are you sick?” Lance was up in a moment, helping Keith to his bed, taking off his shoes for him.

 

“I found him on the floor in the kitchen, he fainted,” Shiro explained while Keith looked sheepish, “I think he’s just exhausted but Keith, how do you feel?”

 

“Tired, sore…” Keith admitted, “My head hurts.”

 

“Did it hurt before you hit it?”

 

“I… I don’t remember.”

 

Shiro sighed, “I’ll be right back with first-aid supplies.”

 

* * *

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” asked Lance.

 

“Tell you what?”

 

“How you were feeling? I care about you too, _coño_ , you’re a stubborn idiot.”

 

“I didn’t realize it was… I didn’t know.” Keith confessed.

 

Lance flicked him between the eyes, “Idiot.”

 

Keith scowled while Lance kissed the spot he flicked, and then discovered the bleeding cut. “ _ Jesus _ , Keith, baby, darling… this is not okay.”

 

Keith just shrugged and yawned, settling under the now familiar covers.

 

“No no, stay awake until Shiro comes back.”

 

* * *

 

“Shiro? What’s with the rush?” Pidge asked as Shiro barrelled through the common room with an armload of supplies from the infirmary.

 

“Keith fainted and hit his head.”

 

“Do you need help?” Pidge went to stand up from where she was leaning against the couch that Hunk was sleeping on, snoring loudly with congestion. “I could page Coran?”

 

“It’s alright, I’ve got him,” Shiro said.

 

Shiro returned to Lance’s room where Lance was already cleaning up the nasty cut on Keith’s head with water. He cracked open the first-aid kit and pulled out what he knew was disinfectant, wetting down a small square of gauze with it and handing it to Lance. Lance tenderly dabbed at the cut, trying to be gentle, but it was still doing it’s job and Keith took a sharp inhale when it touched the open skin.

 

“I know babe,” Lance said.

 

“I’m not a baby,” Keith insisted.

 

“Of course,” Lance pressed a band-aid Shiro handed him over the cut and then lightly kissed the top of Keith’s head.

 

Shiro was fiddling with the health scanner he had grabbed, trying to figure out whether or not Keith was concussed. Eventually he gave up, resolving to get Allura to give him a crash course in working the thing later, and set it down in favour of shining a tiny flashlight into Keith’s eyes, checking his pupils for dilation. Keith glared angrily, but his pupils responded as they were supposed to so Shiro put away the light.

 

“The scanner shows a slightly low body temp,” Shiro said, “It could be from fainting on the cold kitchen floor, or being overtired, but you could also be starting to come down with the flu.”

 

Keith groaned in frustration, gritting out, “I’m fine. Can I go back to my room?” 

 

“Aren’t you comfy here?” Lance asked with dismay.

 

“I want to go back to my room.”

 

“Alright,” Shiro said, “But I’m carrying you this time.”

 

“It’s humiliating.”

 

“The fainting or being carried?”

 

“Both,” Keith said sulkily.

 

“We all need help sometimes, I’ve got you.”

 

“I’ll bring your things,” Lance said, standing up and quickly looking around for all of Keith’s clothing and other things that had been spread across the room.

 

“No,” Keith said, “I’m just going to be sleeping, you don’t need to come.”

 

“You looked after me,” Lance said, “Let me return the favour.”

 

“No,” Keith said sharply, and then added, “I’m fine, I promise. I just… I need some space.”

 

“Okay,” Lance sounded defeated.

 

Shiro quickly brought Keith to his room, settled him in, and then returned to Lance. He knocked on the door, finding Lance inside on his bed, folding Keith’s clothes and stacking them neatly. “Lance?”

 

Shiro came inside and sat at the desk, silent.

 

“I didn’t know Keith was that tired,” Lance said, “He didn’t say anything to me, he was acting normal. Well, normal for Keith?”

 

“Understandable,” Shiro nodded, “He’s good at hiding how he feels.”

 

“Don’t I know it,” Lance snorted.

 

After a few moments of quiet Lance spoke up again, “Do you think that this… us, me and Keith I mean, is bad for Voltron? Like, are we putting the galaxy at risk over a stupid love affair? You and Allura are… also together, but you’re both adults, you know what you’re doing, and she’s not a paladin.”

 

Shiro inhaled deeply, thinking over what to say. He had felt guilty too at first, as if he was putting his own needs before the needs of everyone else, and he hated feeling that way, but Allura had reassured him that their relationship was quite natural, healthy even for them, and therefore beneficial for the team. “Allura said that it’s good for us to, and I quote, ‘release hot air’, he said, “I think she meant ‘let off some steam’ but,” he shrugged, “Idioms.”

 

“Yeah,” Lance chuckled, aware of the awkward idiom use the Alteans tended towards, “But what if it doesn’t work out? I don’t mean you and her, you two are clearly made for each other, but me and Keith… like, what if he hates me? What if he keeps storming out like he just did?”

 

“I don’t think he’s mad at you specifically,” Shiro said, “Well, a little at you, but once you get to know him a little better you’ll see that he’s just being Keith and maybe he’ll let you in. He was like this before too, it’s just who he is.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Keith is an introvert,” Shiro explained, “He needs time alone and he doesn’t let people in easily. He especially doesn’t like to be seen as weak or incapable. I think that’s part of why he likes you so much… you challenge him.”

 

“I challenge him?” Lance asked incredulously, “Nah Shiro, you’ve got it backwards man. Keith challenges me. He’s brave and decisive and crazy strong… not like me.”

 

“I don’t mean in training or piloting or those kinds of things,” Shiro explained, “I mean that you challenge him socially… emotionally. He likes you enough to come out of his shell around you.”

 

That was something then. Lance hadn’t thought of it that way before. “Thank you Shiro,” Lance grinned, and then pulled Shiro in for a hug, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

 

“So am I,” said Shiro, “Keith was beside himself with worry for you. I wish we had managed to keep this thing contained, but at least we’re all immune to getting it again, at least from what Coran tells me.”

 

“Wait, Hunk’s sick too?”

 

“You did, ah, vomit on him.”

 

“ _ Coño _ ,” Lance swore, “My buddy. I’m going to go check on him.”

 

Lance stood up and Shiro stood to follow him out, “He’s been hanging out in the common room so Pidge and I can take turns watching him.”

 

“Poor Hunk,” said Lance, “Pidge has the bedside manner of a mortician.”

 

“True,” Shiro chuckled, “I think she’s at least a little more sympathetic than usual having suffered it herself, but she can’t handle the smell so I’ve been on bucket duty.”

 

“I’ll come help right away. I’m great at this caretaking thing.”

 

* * *

 

Hunk, my man!” Lance came up to where Hunk was sprawled out in endless misery, “How’s it hanging.”

 

“I hate you,” Hunk said.

 

“Sorry man, I didn’t mean to infect you.”

 

Pidge delicately removed herself from the room so they could speak privately. 

 

“I know,” Hunk coughed.

 

“It sucks how crazy contagious this thing is, how are you feeling?”

 

“Better than the last two days,” Hunk sat himself up against the back of the couch, dragging his blanket with him, while Lance got his hands all over his forehead and prodded at the glands in his neck. Hunk was feverish, but not burning up, and he seemed fairly with it.

 

“You’ve recovered pretty quickly then?”

 

Hunk shrugged, “I’ve always had an awesome immune system. Coran made me take his Altean goop as long as I could, I think it possibly helped?”

 

“Hmmm,” Lance stored that bit of information away, “Get any crazy dreams?”

 

“Oh yeah,” Hunk said, “Like, this one was basically the plot of Casablanca, except we were in space? Sort of? Remember that planet that was all medieval?”

 

Lance nodded.

 

“It was like that, but there were zombies too? The Gestapo were zombies. Keith was Rick,” he continued, “and I was Lazlo.”

 

“Who was Ilsa?”

 

“Oh,” Hunk blushed a little, “That was you.”

 

“ _ I _ was Ilsa?” Lance raised an eyebrow, “Wow. Glad you think I’m pretty.”

 

“So… how is that whole thing going? I mean… Keith stayed with you the whole time you were sick, right?”

 

“Basically,” Lance said.

 

“And?” Hunk asked eagerly, his tone similar to Allura’s when she spoke with her mice.

 

“And what?” Lance blinked.

 

“Are you guys a thing?”

 

“I don’t know!” Lance huffed, throwing his arms into the air, “I thought we were, but then he got all emo on me after fainting in the kitchen and like, maybe I was milking the attention a bit, I didn’t know he was  _ that  _ tired, and now he won’t even come out of his room. I don’t even know if he’s okay!”

 

“Ah, that sucks man,” Hunk wasn’t really up to dealing with this bullshit again, he had hoped to be cheered up by his friend’s new relationship milestone, but Lance was distressed so he knew what he had to do. “C’mere,” Hunk lifted up an arm, inviting Lance onto the couch next to him where he could be cuddled into an almost excessively warm embrace.

 

Lance nuzzled into Hunk’s shoulder, smelling sweat and sickness, but also Hunk’s familiar smell which always reminded him of honey, cinnamon, and other comforting holiday spices. 

 

After a little while Lance asked, “Do you want some food?”

 

“You know what?” Hunk said, “I haven’t eaten in days but I’m not nauseous and I think I might actually be hungry.”

 

“Awesome!” Lance leapt off the couch and headed towards the kitchen, “Anything in particular?”

 

“To be honest I’m fine with goo, but you could fix some of the space oatmeal Coran dug up, it’s pretty easy to prepare, just add hot water and sweetener. Even Shiro doesn’t mess it up.”

 

“Really?” asked Lance.

 

“Well, not anymore,” Hunk amended, “I made him clean up his first attempt and showed him how to do it right.”

 

“Right.”

 

“You’ll find it in the cabinet just above the stove. It’s orange but it cooks up into a light brown, that’s normal.”

 

“Got it,” Lance saluted and was off. He prepared two bowls of the oatmeal-like substance and added heaps of the liquid space ‘sugar’ because he knew that was how both he and Hunk liked it, as well as a handful of dried berries, a bowl of sliced fruit, and mugs of tea for both of them.

 

“That smells so good,” Hunk exclaimed, sitting up while Lance set out their spread, taking items off of the floating tray. Pidge was lured in by the smell of cooking but then frowned when there wasn’t a bowl for her. 

 

She nabbed a few fruit slices and then asked, “Where’s mine?”

 

“Make it yourself,” Lance said, sticking out his tongue.

 

“Aw… fine,” she stomped off towards the kitchen.

 

“Nice to see you too!” Lance called out behind her.

 

After a little while and half a bowl of oatmeal, Hunk tried again, Lance’s last response being vague, “So, are you going to bring Keith some?”

 

“Maybe later,” Lance groused, “Once he’s come out of grumpy-cat mode.”

 

“Let me know how it goes.”

 

“Mhmm,” Lance nodded, but he seemed far, far away again, probably lost in thoughts of his Rick, Hunk figured.

 

* * *

 

“So are they together or aren’t they?” Hunk again asked Pidge once they were alone again, having just repeated the conversation he’d had with Lance.

 

“How should I know?” Why don’t you ask Shiro, he might know, or better yet Lance.”

 

“I tried, he didn’t give me a clear answer. Apparently Keith is giving him the cold shoulder now.”

 

“Fire and ice,” Pidge said, shrugging and turning back to Rover 2.4.

 

“I guess,” Hunks said, “Do you think I should lock them in a room together again? That seemed to work last time.”

 

“No, it didn’t. Why can’t you just leave it be?”

 

“I don’t know,” Hunk admitted, “I want to see them happy.”

 

“They’ll figure it out. Leave the cat in the box for now, we can open it later.”

 

Hunk sighed and sniffled. He didn’t feel well enough to do anything constructive, but he wanted to do  _ something. _

 

“Listen,” said Pidge, “I know you’re bored but can’t do much yet. I found a bunch of Altean movies on a drive Coran gave me and we can put English subtitles on them, there are bound to be a few romance flicks there? Why don’t you ask Allura or Coran for a good one and watch it?”

 

“Hmm… sure, that sounds good, thanks…”

 

“In fact, Coran told me there’s one called  _ Yab Quiznak _ which means ‘first quiznak’ and I was going to watch because I wanted to know what the word meant, but Coran advised me that I should wait for you to be up for it because it’s more your kind of film, according to him.”

 

“Let’s do that one then.  _ First Quiznak _ .”

 

* * *

 

Lance stood outside of Keith’s room and inhaled deeply. It was several vargas since Keith’s collapse and Shiro tucking him into his own bed and Lance knew Keith ought to have left for training or at least a meal since then. He fixed another bowl of space oatmeal and beeped the door open, calling quietly into the dark, “Keith? Are you up?”

 

“Yeah?” Keith called from the bed weakly.

 

“Can I come in? I brought food.”

 

Keith groaned as he sat up, “Fine.”

 

Lance turned on the lights, but then quickly dimmed them down when he saw Keith flinching away from them. He set down the floating tray (he’d learned the hard way that they were best left on tables to avoid bumping) and sat next to Keith, tenderly brushing his hair out of his face, “Headache?”

 

“Mmn,” Keith grunted.

 

“Hungry?”

 

“Yeah,” Keith nodded and accepted the bowl from Lance. He began to spoon the porridge into his mouth eagerly, accepting a water pouch with a nod.

 

Lance watched Keith eat for a solid few minutes before Keith set aside the bowl. He was taking small bites, but he did manage to finish just over half of it, before he set it aside and instead took up his water pouch which he finished rapidly.

 

Lance took the water pouch and bowl and set them aside to tuck Keith in under the covers.

 

Slowly Lance stroked Keith’s face, starting at his chin and working his way up, stopping when his thumb was at the side of Keith’s eye to turn those violet eyes towards his own and look into them.

 

But Keith stared back at him with confusion and… amusement?

 

“What are you doing?” Keith asked.

 

“Just looking at you,” Lance shrugged, letting Keith’s face drop.

 

“Ah… okay.”

 

“I mean… I just…” Lance trailed off.

 

“What?”

 

“I think you’re really pretty,” Lance blurted out.

 

Keith blushed. Wasn’t that a term usually reserved for girls?  _ Pretty _ ? What did that even mean? “Pretty?”

 

“I mean. Not exactly…” Lance trailed off, “But I find you attractive? Handsome? Is that better?”

 

“Okay,” Keith said, “You think I’m handsome.”

 

“No!” Lance exclaimed, “Okay. Yes. I’m bi. You’re attractive. I find you attractive.”

 

Keith chuckled, “I like you too Lance.”

 

“But…” the same misgivings bubbled up despite Shiro’s reassurances, “But what about everyone else? What about the team? What about Voltron?”

 

Keith sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back against the pillow, “What about it? I mean, won’t it figure itself out? You never hear about straight romances causing these kinds of problems.”

 

“Yeah,” Lance agreed, “But those are straight… oh. Oh…”

 

It was all dawning upon Lance. What were his hangups with dating Keith anyway? He liked women, he found them sexy as hell, but he also found men to be that way, especially Keith; Keith was very attractive with his devil-may-care attitude, with his pretty-boy looks, and tough shell concealing a sensitive, empathetic soul.

 

“Oh.”

 

“Oh?” asked Keith, raising a dark eyebrow to stare at Lance.

 

“I like  _ like  _ you.”

 

Keith chuckled.

 

“For real. That’s  _ gay _ .”

 

“I know,” said Keith, “You’re only figuring this out now?

 

“I guess?” Lance laughed, his laugh turning into a cough.

 

“Hey,” Keith sat up to rub Lance’s back, “Shh, you’re just getting over being brutally sick.”

 

“You fainted earlier,” Lance points out.

 

“Okay,” Keith acceded, “True.”

 

Lance strokes Keith’s face, tucking dark bangs behind his ears, and then looks deeply into his face and grins, “I really like you.”

 

“Good,” Keith says, and then kisses Lance, full on the mouth, with intensity. He had never kissed anyone like this before, but he felt that it was true to his feelings and he wasn’t going to back down on it any time soon.

 

Lance was frozen in shock for a tick, but then responded in kind, his lips moving and his tongue dancing and his voice whispering little “uhs” with each smack, each movement, taking Keith’s kisses and returning them with his own.

 

“Keith,” Lance sighed, drawing away eventually, “Oh man, you taste good.”

 

“Do I?” Keith grinned.

  
“Yeah,” Lance exhaled, his body filled with a burn that started at his toes and went all the way up to the crown of his head. “I want you.”

 

Keith chuckled, “Let’s slow it down, okay?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Lance murmured, kissing Keith’s hot neck.

 

“Can you lay with me here for now?” Keith asked.

 

“Mhmm,” Lance said, pressing his body against Keith’s, feeling each centimeter of their connection from leg to cheek, wherever they were touching skin-on-skin, the warmth passing from one body to the other. 

 

Internally Lance was screaming. If this was a girl would he have lost his virginity yet? Not really, but this wasn’t sex, this was  _ intimacy _ , and he didn’t quite know what to do with that.

 

* * *

 

Altean film was a combination of musical theatre, opera, and interpretive dance, with a bit of pro wrestling for good measure. Coran eventually wandered in and sat down to watch  _ Yab Quiznak  _  as well, talking about how he was a member of a small troupe in his youth, and soon Allura and Shiro joined them as well.

 

The film wrapped up with it’s last musical number and Coran wiped away a tear, “That was beautiful.”

 

“What the fuck did I just watch?” asked Pidge.

 

Hunk shrugged; he had no idea either. That was the most bizarre thing he’d ever seen recorded on film.

 

“Pidge!” said Shiro, “Don’t insult their art form.”

 

“I hardly call this art,” Allura shrugged, “More like popular culture? Although this was a very famous performance in its day, so much so that the word ‘quiznak’ entered common use.”

 

“What does it mean anyway?” asked Hunk.

 

“Do you recall the scene where the main couple, Alfons and Bezatrice, were, ah, copulating?”

 

“After they almost murdered each other?” asked Hunk, “Yeah.”

 

“They were having a quiznak.” Coran explained, “‘Nak’ is a crude word for the act of sex, and ‘quiz’ is a prefix that roughly translates to ‘loathing’ or ‘rivalry’.”

 

“So ‘quiznak’ means ‘hate-fuck’?” Pidge clarified.

 

“Pidge,” Shiro sighed.

 

“I’m just trying to understand the term,” she defended.

 

“You are way too young for this conversation.”

 

Hunk idly wondered if Keith and Lance had quiznaked yet.

 

* * *

 

Keith was waking up warm and comfortable. Lance had been snoring all night, had been from the start of their… whatever this was, although Keith wasn’t sure if that was normal for him or if it was just congestion, he suspected it was the latter, but didn’t mind either way since it wasn’t loud. The absence of snoring indicated that Lance was already awake. He wasn’t in Keith’s bed but before Keith could wonder where Lance had gotten to a weight sat on the edge of his bed and Lance said, “Good morning.”

 

“Good morning,” Keith sat up, stretching.

 

Lance kissed him lightly on the lips and then nuzzled back into his chest. “I have a quick question,” he said.

 

“Anything,” Keith replied.

 

“Where did you get this wicked knife?” Lance pulled out Keith’s blade and began to unwrap the rags it was wrapped in, “It looks like a space knife. Did you find it somewhere? Did you steal it?”

 

“That’s mine!” Keith angrily snatched the knife back out of Lance’s hands, “Where did you find it?”

 

“Uh, in the drawer in your bathroom.”

 

“Why were you looking in there?” Keith asked accusingly.

 

“I was trying to find some mouthwash or toothpaste or something so I wouldn’t assault you with my morning breath,” Lance shrugged, “Don’t bite my head off for trying to spare you that.”

 

“Get out.”

 

“What?”

 

“Get out of my room now,” Keith said, “You’ve invaded my privacy.”

 

“I found a knife in your bathroom drawer,” Lance held up his hands in defense.

 

“Out.”

 

“Fine,” Lance said, backing down as if Keith were a feral cat, “If you want to be left alone, I’ll leave you alone. After all we talked about last night… after almost a week sleeping in the same bed…”

 

“Lance,” Keith began. 

 

Lance slammed his hand down on the button that shut the door behind him.

 

Well, Keith had screwed that up. He quietly began to rewrap the knife and then tucked it under his pillow, lightly gripping the familiar handle and thinking about the implications of it. Why would he, Keith Kogane of the planet Earth, have a space knife? He’d had it as long as he could remember, it was a family heirloom he’d been told, but what did that mean? Ulaz had a similar knife, and the general design seemed Galra, but how could that relate back to him?

 

A voice echoed back to him:  _ You fight like a Galra soldier. _

 

* * *

 

“Help me Hunk,” Lance sat on the couch, laying his entire body on top of his friend’s.

 

Hunk woke up with a snort and a snuffle, Lance’s lanky body draped over his own, “La…” he coughed, clearing his throat, “Lance?

 

“I think I screwed up.”

 

“What did you do?” Hunk asked, slowly sliding Lance off his lap and onto the couch so he could sit up and grope around the table for his water. He didn’t find water but there was a half-finished cup of cold tea he downed quickly, desperate for fluids.

 

“Apparently I invaded Keith’s privacy by finding a knife in his room. I was just looking for mouthwash. We all know he has knives, I was just asking where he got this one.”

 

“Ah,” Hunk said, “You thought Keith would have mouthwash?”

 

“I thought I’d try at least. He didn’t strike me as the type to be possessive of his things?”

 

“Maybe it has some special significance to him?” Hunk suggested.

 

“Maybe,” Lance didn’t seem to believe him, “What happened then?”

 

“He kicked me out of his room. We’ve been together, sorta, for like a week?”

 

“So you are together!”

 

“Yes,” Lance blinked, “I thought everyone knew.”

 

“I didn’t,” Hunk said, “No one told me and you were busy being nursed by Keith.”

 

“Ugh,” Lance groaned, “I pushed him too far. I wore him down. Now he’s mad and won’t talk to me.”

 

“A whole week before your first fight is pretty good all things considered,” Hunk said.

 

“What things considered?” Lance asked accusingly.

 

“Just the both of you being… you?”

 

“What are you implying?”

 

“Nothing, nothing…” Hunk said, “Just, you know, how you behaved before, but it’s a sort of love-hate quiznak thing I guess.”

 

“Quiznak?”

 

“So we watched this Altean film, performance, thing… it was messed up, but it was called  _ First Quiznak  _ and let me tell you about it…”

 

“Okay,” Lance settled in, ready to be distracted by his best friend.

  
*** * ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coño: literally "cunt", but not usually a severe curse word in Cuban Spanish use, more on par with "damn!"


	6. VI: Quiznak Actually

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long! I actually finished it a long time ago but I forgot to post it. Sorry! The whole thing will get a thorough edit after I post this too.

* * *

Chapter VI: Quiznak Actually

* * *

Keith, knife put away, got up and dressed and ready for his day. He decided to leave breakfast for after his morning workout, partly to avoid running into Lance, partly because he didn’t have much appetite, and went straight to the training deck. Shiro was there already, working through his morning yoga postures, sun salutations for a celestial body that was so far away they couldn’t even see it as a star. Keith nodded as greeting and went straight to stretching and then chin-ups. He was putting his hair up between sets of pushups when Shiro finished and walked over to him.

“Ready for breakfast?”

“I want to get another couple of sets in, and a shower.”

“Okay, maybe I’ll see you at the table, if not we’re going to have some bonding exercises in a couple vargas.”

Keith groaned internally.

Bonding exercises… really?

* * *

“Do we need to do this today?” Hunk complained, looking at the headset on the ground in front of him. They sat cross-legged in a circle in the middle of the training room, the lights dimmed low and alien incense, a bundle of fragrant herbs that was Shiro’s idea, burning in a corner, filling the air with sweet smoke.

“Would you rather fight the gladiator?” Shiro asked, “Or do some piloting drills?”

“Right, nevermind,” Hunk said. He still wasn’t feeling one hundred percent and the thought of doing multiple barrel rolls made his stomach flip uncomfortably. 

“Right, let’s dig around in each other’s head holes then,” Lance said, pulling on the headset.

“No secrets,” Shiro said.

“No secrets,” Pidge nodded in agreement. 

“Think of a person who makes you happy, a person who you want to be with right now,” Shiro said, closing his eyes.

Naturally Shiro projected Allura to the others, a gentle smile on her face as she chatted animatedly about something they couldn’t hear in Shiro’s vision; he was focused entirely on her face, her excitement, the smell of her freshly washed hair, and the way her cheek marks glowed when she was like this.

Pidge thought of Matt, a day they spent at the fair, not an unusual thing since they went every year, but somehow this day was an amalgamation of all the best moments; Pidge and Matt on the ferris wheel, pointing out familiar landmarks, sharing a bag of mini-doughnuts, and Matt gripping Pidge’s hand on the ride as they were launched upwards into the sky. Not long after this day he would be launched into space, they both knew it, and he was a little bit afraid, although he had never been afraid on this ride before.

Hunk thought of his mummy, his mom’s wife. They married when he was six years old and suddenly he was at a holiday dinner; his mom was volunteering at a homeless shelter on Christmas eve, but she promised to be home for their own dinner by 6pm. Hunk and his mummy had prepared the meal lovingly, all of their favourites, and for the first time ever they had negotiated for a turkey in their otherwise vegan household, on account of the special occasion. Christmas was a celebration both his mummy and mom were familiar with, although the specifics varied between Australia and Samoa. Mummy remembered turkey, often cold by the time dinner rolled around, with cranberry sauce and white rolls. Since the morning, before Hunk had even gotten up, she’d been cooking. She was a crappy cook, they all knew it, but she was trying to make this meal perfect. Hunk spent the entire day with her, researching what he could on the internet, guessing or experimenting with the rest. The pudding was an absolute failure, but the turkey, organic and free-range as per the negotiations, smelled amazing. When mom came home she looked over the spread and gasped, kissing her wife lovingly, “You did all this?”  
“I didn’t,” she said, “Hunk did most of it. Hunk glowed with pride as he was trapped between their loving arms.

Keith tried to remember a face that was ‘safe’, his father, Shiro, a boy he’d been with in school, but the only person that came to mind was Lance. He tried again to push Lance away but they could all see, they could all sense, his turmoil.

Eventually Pidge sighed in exasperation, “Just admit it already Keith, you like Lance.”

“What?” Keith exclaimed, “I don’t! I’m not…”

“Keith,” Shiro said in his ‘dad’ voice, “We all know it, you don’t need to hide it.”

“Fine,” Keith sighed, blushing red. He allowed his vision to clear and then Lance, with a cocky grin, was standing next to him as they towered over the water on Janro, ready to jump into the water. Lance’s face was a painting of pure joy and adoration. Lance himself was shocked to see how Keith envisioned him in that moment, a creature from another world, bronze skin glistening with water from their first jump, his short brown hair clinging to his clear brow, blue eyes glinting in the strange sunlight. Lance’s hand gripped his and they jumped together. Instantly Lance recalled that moment of ecstasy, of sheer, unbridled joy and passion and his breath was torn from him.

The other paladins felt it too, the thrill and the love the other two held for each other hit them like a sack of bricks. 

“Whoah,” said Hunk, ripping off the headset and tossing it to the ground. He was overwhelmed.

A blush spread across Shiro’s cheeks.

“Lance and Keith, sittin’ in a tree,” sing-songed Pidge, “K-I-S-S-I-N-”

“Shut up Pidge!” Keith glared, tossing his headset at Pidge who ducked away expertly.

Lance just blinked and stared at Keith in bewilderment, awash in emotions. “Keith…” he asked, his voice thick.

“I’m sorry,” Keith said, his body rigid, “I’ll just… I’ll just go…”

“No!” Lance said, and he was climbing across the floor on his hands and knees to Keith and taking the other boy’s face into his hands. “Keith, I think I love you. I’m sorry about earlier, I just… I want to know all there is to know about you.”

Keith froze, his frown deep, and then responded slowly, painfully, “I… I love you too. And I’m also sorry about this morning. I want to tell you everything about me, but you’ll have to be patient.”

“I can be patient, I can wait,” Lance said, but he paused and then added, “Except I really want to kiss you right now.”

“Then kiss me, idiot.”

Lance’s lips met Keiths, right in the middle of the floor where Pidge and Shiro, next to each other, watched on, mildly surprised at the sudden confession. Hunk meanwhile was watching with unrestrained glee. The two of them kissed passionately for several seconds before they withdrew, Lance still almost in Keith’s lap, both blushing furiously.

“Finally!” he shouted, “Oh my God, you guys are finally together!”

“Uh,” Lance said, sitting back and turning to Hunk although he still sat right in front of Keith, “We’ve been together for like a week?”

“But you weren’t… you didn’t? I didn’t know, I mean, you never said, even though you were…?” Hunk looked from one to the other in confusion.

Lance broke into laughter, “Of course!” He put a hand to his head in exasperation, “We never told Hunk we were together! I would have if I was able to, but I wasn’t, and I can only assume Keith didn’t?”

Lance looked meaningfully at Keith who shook his head.

“I mean, I complained when things were bad and oh man,” Lance laughed, glancing at Hunk meaningfully, “It serves you right, trying to set us up like that… you’ve been stuck not knowing all this time, hey?”

Hunk nodded, “Yeah.”

Keith couldn’t help it, he snorted at how ridiculous this was.

“Schrodinger's romance,” Pidge said sagely, “I told him he wouldn’t know until he opened your door and asked.”

“Oh,” Shiro said, “Hunk didn’t know? That must have been torture for him.”

“It was,” Hunk said, “But now the box is open and the cat is alive.”

Hunk knelt forward and brought Keith and Lance together in a giant hug, one arm around each of them, “I’m so happy for you both!”

Shiro clasped Keith and Lance from the other side, bringing them into a group hug, “Me too.”

Pidge shrugged and dove in, “Me too.”

This was how Allura found her five paladins, hugging each other on the floor. She joined in, draping one arm over Shiro and the other over Keith, and smiling at them cheekily, “I take it the bonding exercise worked?”

“Oh,” Keith gasped, slightly embarrassed.

Allura bent forward and began to kiss Shiro passionately in the middle of the group hug. The other paladins pulled away uncomfortably as Shiro returned in kind, giving in to her passionate lips.

“God,” Pidge made a gagging sound, “I’m gonna be sick.”

The other paladins and Allura jumped away from her as if she was on fire.

“What?” she said, looking around, “Oh, heh. That was a figure of speech. You guys were being sappy.”

“Right,” Shiro laughed, “Still. I would rather avoid a repeat.”

There were murmurs of agreement.

“And you’re okay still Keith?” Allura ventured, looking at the Red Paladin curiously.

“I feel fine,” Keith shrugged, grasping Lance’s hand, “Really good, actually.”

“Interesting,” Allura said, scrutinizing him, “Would you mind if I took a blood sample to analyze? Coran insists it was his health beverage but I suspect a genetic immunity of some kind, perhaps developed under heavy exposure during your... ah, time, with Lance.”

Keith’s whole body tensed. He remembered the knife, that time when the quintessence dissolved into his skin, staining it purple like he’d been eating blackberries, and that moment he’d been told “You fight like a Galra soldier.” His past was a mystery but something had always drawn him out to space, and while he had previously dismissed his father’s unwillingness to get him vaccinated or take him to a doctor as a child, he was now beginning to wonder if there was more to it than his father being an anti-vax conspiracy theorist type. 

“A blood sample?” Keith asked.

“Just a prick, won’t hurt at all,” Allura said.

“No,” said Keith, “I don’t - I would rather not.”

“Keith babe,” Lance asked quietly, lowering his voice so they wouldn’t be speaking so much in front of the others, although they were all near enough to hear anyway, “Are you afraid of needles? It’s okay if you are.”

“I’m not afraid of needles!” Keith raises his voice shrilly. 

Allura raised her hands in defeat, “That’s okay.”

Shiro regarded him from the corner of his eye, “There’s nothing to be ashamed of if you are.”

“I don’t like them,” Hunk admitted, “I can’t watch them going in.”

“Do I look like the kind of person who’s afraid of needles?” Keith deadpanned before Hunk’s last sentence had registered.

Hunk looked hurt.

“Look,” Keith sighed, “I just don’t want to, okay?”

“It’s okay,” Allura shrugged, “I was hoping to be able to use it for future research into human immunity, I already have a body fluid sample from Shiro, I wanted to compare it with yours.”

Lance snorted, “Body fluid sample.”

Shiro glared at Lance as if to say ‘Grow up.’

“For Alteans personal autonomy is respected,” Allura said, “I won’t make you do it.”

Lance wanted to ask; curiosity was burning him alive. But he said he would wait, that he would give Keith time to come out on his own, so he would respect that.

“It’s not fair that you’re immune,” Lance whinned.

“Guess I just won the lottery this time,” Keith said, nuzzling Lance. He meant it in more ways than his immunity; he’d won the lottery with Lance.

* * *

“I’m really happy right now,” said Keith. They were stretched out on the floor on the otherwise bridge late at night, laying together on a pile of blankets and pillows, watching a solar storm dance above their heads. The phenomenon had been going on the past several days, but it was peaking tonight, and they had somehow convinced everyone to give them some privacy on the bridge.

“What do I call you?” Lance asked after a moment, “Darling?”

“Not darling, that’s what Allura calls Shiro when she’s mad at him.”

“What do I call you then?” asked Lance, “Sweetheart? Handsome? Mullet-weeb?”

“No.” Keith scowled, “Let me think. ‘Keith’ for everyday, ‘my favourite’ when we’re around the others, and ‘my flame’ on very special occasions.”

“What about when I’m mad at you? Mi amor?”

“No,” Keith frowned, knowing full well what the phrase meant, “You may only call me mi amor when you are uncontrollably, impossibly, unconditionally happy.”

“Mi amor,” Lance said, drawing close and kissing Keith on the forehead, “how are you tonight?”

Keith's grin was huge.

“Mi amor,” Lance kissed his left cheek.

“Mi amor,” And then his nose.

“Mi amor,” his right cheek.

“Mi amor,” Lance kissed Keith full on the mouth, drawing his body close and wrapping his arms around in a full embrace.

* * *


End file.
